


February

by MilkTeaMiku



Series: A Year of Writing [2]
Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Angels & Demons, Alternate Universe - Bakery, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Alternate Universe - Harry Potter Setting, Alternate Universe - Hogwarts, Angst, Domestic Fluff, Everyone Is Alive, Fawn AU, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Marriage, Married Couple, Wingfic, Wings, deer!bilbo, fawn!bilbo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-01
Updated: 2015-02-28
Packaged: 2018-03-09 23:57:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 28
Words: 37,990
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3269063
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MilkTeaMiku/pseuds/MilkTeaMiku
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The adventures of a Hobbit can often be rather tumultuous. Bilbo finds that being with Thorin can be as difficult as it is heart-warming. </p><p>A collection of various Alternate Universe works.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Rainy Encounter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bilbo gets caught out in the rain.  
> A handsome stranger helps him out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day one, month two~ ÒvÓ

Bilbo shivered and rubbed his hands up and down his arms as he walked down the street as fast as his little legs could. The scent of heavy rain about to fall was in the air, and he hoped it wouldn't begin to pour before he made it to his workplace. 

As his luck would have it, it began to rain not a moment later with a rumbling clap of thunder. 

"Ah!" He cried as rain began to fall from the dark sky above him. Before he knew it, he was soaked to the bone, and still a block away from the bookstore where he worked. _Just my luck, and I forgot my umbrella as well!_

People were rushing into motion around him as umbrellas popped open and work men and woman in suits hurried for cover. Bilbo shivered as the water seeped through his sweater, sticking the fabric to his skin. He tried not to get jostled by the people around him, but his lack of height and overall lack of strength did not work in his favour. 

An elbow suddenly pushed into Bilbo's shoulder with a little more strength than he could handle, and before he realised it he was fallings towards the wet pavement, before he even had the chance to cry out. His body instantly braced for the impact (because he was a rather clumsy person, and as such was somewhat used to falling) but before he could somebody grabbed him by the arms and hauled him upright. Bilbo stumbled behind the person as he was dragged from the throng of people and under the awning of what looked like a bakery, trying not to lose a hold of his bag that hung precariously from his shoulder.

"T-thank you-" Bilbo says as he wipes the rain from his eyes with the edge of his sweater sleeve. He glances up, and his words are stolen right from his tongue at the sight of the man who had pulled him from the crowd.

He was absolutely _gorgeous._ In fact, Bilbo would swear he'd never seen anybody quite as attractive - thick, dark hair and piercing blue eyes the colour of forget-me-not's, with a strong nose and a stern expression that seemed to hide something charming and inquisitive beneath. It was all very alluring...

Bilbo was so enamoured with the man's looks that he hardly heard him speaking. "Oh, sorry, what was that?" He asks as he flushes, his brows furrowing up in an expression akin to embarrassment. 

A small smile touched the man's lips. "I asked, are you alright?"

Oh his _voice._ It was so deep and rumbling that Bilbo was sure his ears were turning red just from the sound of it. "Y-yes, I'm quite alright, thanks to you." He rubs at his eye again, but his sleeve was too wet to soak up the moisture dripping from his hair anymore. "I apologize for being a trouble."

"It was no trouble at all." The man says. He unwinds the scarf he had tucked neatly around his neck and uses it to wipe the water from Bilbo's face. "My name is Thorin, by the way."

"I'm Bilbo." He says. His hands itch to push away Thorin's scarf for fear of it being ruined, despite how soft it feels against his cheeks and how good and homely it smells. "You really don't need to- I mean, your scarf..." 

"Is just a scarf." Thorin answers, wiping away the last stray droplets from the tips of Bilbo's damp curls before he turns the scarf over and settles it across the shorter man's shoulders, dry side first. 

"Thank you." Bilbo says weakly, offering a small, grateful smile up to the taller man. 

Thorin, looking appeased, turns his gaze out to the rain. The crowd had since all but disappeared, leaving the road looking rather deserted. "Why were you out today?" Thorin asks casually.

"Work." Bilbo answers, happy that the conversation was being steered by Thorin instead of himself. He wanted to talk to Thorin, but he found that he did not what to say. "I suppose I'll be a little late today." He said with a sigh. "And you?" 

Thorin smiled faintly. "I'm looking for a gift for my sister." He says. "She's very picky. Would you know where I could find something?"

Bilbo hums thoughtfully. "What does she like?"

"Dis likes jewellery a lot." Thorin says, looking contemplative. "Runs in the family, that. Her sons have already claimed jewellery as a gift, though. My brother and I are struggling to find something else she would like." He smiles that faint smile again, and Bilbo thought that he looked very fond at the thought of his family. "She also likes to read, and she's learning to sew, though she is much better at crafting sturdier things."

"What about a book, then?" Bilbo's eyes light up as his mind runs through every book they had in stock at his workplace. He thoroughly enjoyed the feel of the paper between his fingers, and the smell of new books had to be one of his favourite scents. Really, he could be a very boring person to be with, what with his nose always stuck in a book. "In fact, I work at the book store just around the corner! I'm sure there is something she would like there."

"Would you be willing to help me?" Thorin asks, watching Bilbo with eyes so strong and determined that it knocked the breathe right out of him. 

"Of course!" Bilbo answers, grinning. He felt his heart flutter in his chest, and he just knew his cheeks had flushed with the childish joy he felt swelling in his heart. 

"Then it must be fate that we met today." Thorin says. Bilbo turns red rather quickly, and hides his embarrassed smile behind a sweater-covered hand.

They waited until the rain had slowed, before making the quick walk to the bookstore. Bilbo had been enticed into a primarily one-sided conversation about literature by a specifically worded question from Thorin, and it warmed his chest to know that Thorin seemed genuinely interested in what he was saying. It was not often someone listened attentively to his rambling, and he was so pleased that he hardly noticed when Thorin placed a gentle hand on the small of his back to steer him down the right path. 

The bookstore was warm when they entered - Thorin held the door open, making Bilbo smile shyly. The familiar tinkle of the bell above the door and the reassuring smell of books and coffee coming from the back room relaxed him immediately. 

Bilbo did not stop his talking as he placed his bag down behind the counter and led Thorin through the tight rows of bookshelves. "One of the lights flicker down towards the back, which can be a little disconcerting during the evening, but it's not so bad." Bilbo says. "It's above the political and religious section, which in itself is rather small I suppose... so not many customers go down there- ah, here we are!" 

They'd come to a stop in front of the sewing section. Bilbo traced his fingers across the spines of the books, his eyes rolling over the titles until he found the one he thought Dis would like, given what Thorin had briefly told him about her. He pulled it from the shelf and handed it over to Thorin, who willingly took it without a second glance. 

Bilbo hardly noticed that Thorin's gaze was fixed on his face, rather than the books. 

"I think she might like one of those, too..." Bilbo murmured, more to himself than to Thorin as he lead the taller man through the maze of bookshelves to the best-seller aisle. He absently buried his nose against Thorin's scarf, still comfortably settled against his neck. It smelt very... _masculine,_ Bilbo decided. He quite liked it.

Eventually he spotted the book he was looking for, perched on the highest row. He stood on his toes to reach it, and frowned when his fingertips could only brush the lip of the shelf.

A weight settled across his back. "This one?" Thorin asks quietly, his fingers brushing against the back of Bilbo's hand as he gently touches the spine of the book.

Bilbo can only just manage to nod as Thorin pulls down the book from the shelf. He was so close that Bilbo could feel the rumble in Thorin's chest as he spoke. It made his heart jump. 

Bilbo cleared his throat and continued on speaking, though he had a clear wobble in his voice now that Thorin had effectively gotten him all flustered and red-cheeked. He led Thorin to the counter, and rang up the books. 

"Do you want me to wrap them?" Bilbo asks. He didn't want Thorin to leave quite yet. 

"If you wouldn't mind." Thorin says.

"Not at all." Bilbo smiles up at him, and pulls out the good wrapping paper from under the counter. "Is silver alright?" He asks. When Thorin nods, he begins to carefully wrap the books, as neatly as he possible could (which, if he were being truthful, was quite neat). Usually the bookstore only wrapped gifts during the Christmas season, but he felt like making an acceptation for Thorin. 

"Thank you for helping me, Bilbo." Thorin says as he watches Bilbo put the finishing touch on the wrapped books - a pretty blue ribbon, one for each book. 

"Well, it's the least I could do." Bilbo offers a bashful smile as he gently packs the books into a carry bag. "You did save me from that crowd, after all." He laughs, abashed. "I tend to get pushed around a lot..."

"Is that so?" Thorin murmurs. He glances at the clock above Bilbo's head, and sighs quietly. "I guess I'd better get going."

"Oh." Bilbo says forlornly. He reaches for the scarf, but Thorin gently stills his hands. 

"Keep it." Thorin says, smiling softly.

"Oh, I couldn't possibly-" Bilbo starts, eyes widening.

"I'll pick it up off you later." Thorin gives him a small, but undeniably cheeky grin. "You need it more than I do, I'm afraid." Absently, he brushes a stray, damp curl from Bilbo's forehead. "It seems like it'll be cold for the rest of the day."

Bilbo flushes, but nods his head. Thorin wordlessly hands him his phone, a new contact ready to be filled, and Bilbo nervously types in his number. He really hoped Thorin would contact him. 

"See you later, then." Thorin takes back his phone and slips it into his pocket. Bilbo trails him to the door, gripping the end of the scarf tightly. Thorin gives him one more smile, before exiting the bookstore.

Bilbo lifts a hand to wave, smiling a little when Thorin glances back once, before he disappears down the street, lost in the crowd of people who were beginning to emerge once again.

Bilbo lets out a small sigh, and returns to sit on the small stool behind the counter. He observes the overflowing shelves for a moment, and a pang of loneliness hits him. It was different being in the store all alone than it was being with company. 

A buzzing sound attracts his attention, and he rifles through his bag until finds his phone. A message pops up on the screen, and when Bilbo opens it, he can't help but smile widely.

_You're beautiful when you smile._  
_\- Thorin_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My first attempt at an AU with this fandom.  
> I hope it is alright, I quite enjoyed writing this~ ^////^


	2. Safe On The Steep Cliffs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes people don't understand the difference between being alone and feeling lonely.
> 
> Thorin finally understood.

Thorin didn't enjoy his job (because if he did that would make him an awful person) but he didn't exactly hate it. The hours were terrible, yes, and the pay was mediocre, so he didn't know why he liked it-

He just did.

Sometimes it felt like fate had led him to where he was today. He had been in a really bad place before he had gotten sick, and he felt like now he had a chance to help others, however he could.

He worked at Erebor Hospital. The place used to be really run down, and more than half the buildings had been completely abandoned and non-functional, but after a hefty fund had been provided everything had been refurbished. Now Erebor was one of the better hospitals on the continent (though those working at Mirkwood Hospital would beg to differ). 

Thorin didn't always work in Ward Thirteen. A lot of people considered it to be unlucky, not just because of the number thirteen but because of the patients that resided there. In fact, a lot of people called the ward the Lonely Mountain. Thorin didn't like it, but he kept his lips shut. 

His patients were all in comas.

He could understand all the things people said about Ward Thirteen, but that didn't mean he had to like it. He did everything to make his patients and their visitors comfortable - the windows were all open, and shielded with soft, white curtains. There were stickers on the walls for the children, and there were always fresh flowers on each patient's bedside table (though Thorin was not good at keeping them alive for long). 

Before him, the previous workers would only stay for a few months. Again, Thorin could understand - it was difficult to look after patients (who may never wake up) for more than six months at a time, and it was even more difficult to have to be the witness to their life support being switched off. 

But Thorin didn't hate his job. After his sickness all those months ago, something in him had... _changed._ It wasn't necessarily for the better, but it was not harmful, either. He could just suddenly see ghosts.

Well, they weren't ghosts. They were his patients, who were in fact still breathing, albeit aided. 

Most of the time, they didn't talk to him past their first meeting. Thorin disliked explaining to them that they were in fact in a coma, and that yes, they might not survive. Sometimes they didn't - survive, that is, but their expressions were never regretful when they blinked out of existence in time with the sharp beep of the life support machine.

Often, they did survive. They didn't remember being ghosts, but Thorin didn't mind. He was content to be forgotten by them, because he had never really known them, had he?

One day, a small man with curly hair was admitted from the ER. 

A car accident, they said. Wasn't his fault; he'd been in the wrong place at the wrong time. Thorin thought it was sad, because it was people like him that didn't deserve to wilt away on a bed at the Lonely Mountain.

"What happened to me?"

Thorin remained quiet as he clipped the patient's clipboard to the end of their bed. The doctor was fiddling with the machines all hooked to the patient - his name was Bilbo Baggins, Thorin found, as he glanced at the pages clipped to the clipboard. 

"Hello?"

Thorin hid his frown. Bilbo's voice was trembling, but Thorin couldn't say anything until the doctor left. 

When he finally did, Thorin looked up. Bilbo was shorter than he would have imagined, standing on the opposite side of the bed his body lay on. His eyes were a wide, doe coloured brown, and were watery as they followed the doctor from the room. Upon feeling Thorin's gaze, they darted to him, and Bilbo's little mouth opened a few times.

Thorin could tell that his new patient had no words to say. "You're in a coma." Thorin says. He fixes the sheet over Bilbo's body, but is careful to address Bilbo-the-ghost, not Bilbo-the-body. "You were in a car accident. Your head got hurt the worst."

Bilbo swallowed heavily. He was wringing his hands so much so that his knuckles had turned white. "Why can you see me?"

"I got sick a while ago." Thorin answers carefully. "Got better, but could see people like you afterwards."

Bilbo had to sit on the bed. He couldn't look at his body. "Will I get better?"

"Maybe." Thorin answers. "Is there anything you want?"

Bilbo gave him a funny look, as if there was nothing he could ever wish for. "Is my nephew here? He's only a little thing..."

Thorin shook his head. "No, just you."

"Oh." Bilbo looked down at his hands.

Thorin left him after that. He hoped Bilbo would wake, because the look in his eyes when he spoke of his nephew hurt Thorin more than anything he had felt in a long while.

 

Thorin hadn't expected to ever speak to Bilbo again, as was per usual with his patients, so he was pleasantly surprised when Bilbo maintained communication with him willingly.

"Why do they call this ward the Lonely Mountain?" Bilbo asked one day as Thorin turned the page in the book he was reading. Ghosts couldn't really interact with material things - apparently it made his fingers turn really cold, Bilbo said, uncomfortably so.

"Because of the patients." Thorin answers, as if it were obvious. 

"Do you get lonely here?"

Thorin looked up, startled. Bilbo met his eyes; watching him, and not the book. 

Thorin turned his gaze back to the book. "Not really." He answers. "I can go home, after this. I can speak to my sister and my brother, and my nephews." It sounded cruel, but Bilbo needed to know. Thorin didn't want to give him false hope, in case he never woke. He needed to remind Bilbo that this room he slept in was not the only place in the world, and that others existed outside of these walls. 

But Bilbo smiled faintly, pleased. "Tell me about them?"

Thorin looked back up at him for a moment. Bilbo looked hopeful, though there was resignation in his eyes - he knew Thorin did not wish to speak of his family to a ghost. After a moment of silence, Thorin turned his eyes back down to the book strewn across Bilbo's lap. 

"My nephews are a handful." Thorin began. 

 

Bilbo told him about Frodo, his nephew. "His father is my second-cousin, and they died in a boating accident when Frodo was just a little babe. I was their only next of kin, so I took him in. He's got the biggest blue eyes."

Thorin nods. Bilbo was watching him replace the flowers in the vase beside his bed. "I found out he was staying with Hamfast and Bell Gamgee." Thorin says. It had taken a lot of digging through files he was not meant to see, but he had wanted to reassure Bilbo that his precious nephew was being taken care of. "They've requested to visit, though I haven't approved them yet."

"Is that so?" Bilbo says, relief evident in the slight curl of his lips. "I'm grateful they've taken him in. Frodo is very close with their son, Sam. They're good people."

"Do you want him to visit?" Thorin asks. "He won't be able to see you."

"If..." Bilbo frowns, looking towards the window. "If you don't mind, I would like to see him."

 

Thorin was making his rounds through Ward Thirteen when he found a little boy. It was strange to see living people after working with warm bodies and silent ghosts (as he had yet to visit Bilbo - he left that for the end of the day, when he could spend the most time with the talkative ghost). 

The boy had a thick mop of dark curls, and wore a pinched expression that made Thorin's heart lurch. The child's eyes were so, so blue - the bluest eyes Thorin had ever seen.

"Hello, Frodo." Thorin crouched in front of the child, who looked like he was going to burst into tears at any time. "Are you here to see your Uncle?"

Frodo's eyes widened, and he nodded. "I can't find U-Uncle, and I lost Sam and Miss Bell, a-and-"

Thorin could recognise the about-to-cry expression right away; after all, he'd had a hand in raising his nephews. "How about we go find Sam, then?" Thorin asks, holding out his hand. "Then we can visit Uncle Bilbo."

Frodo scrubbed at his eyes, and slipped his little fingers into Thorin's palm. "Okay." He answered quietly.

It wasn't hard to find the Gamgee's. Bell looked close to tears herself as she hugged Frodo so tight he almost disappeared into her dress. It was getting late, so they decided to head home at that point. Frodo was close to falling asleep, so Thorin didn't ask if they wanted to visit Bilbo first. He knew they did, but it was just so difficult to see somebody you love laying motionless on a foreign bed in a generic room that was not their own. 

He didn't blame them.

 

After a while, Thorin got to know the Gamgee's very well. It had been two months since Bilbo was admitted, and Thorin was denying any attraction he had to the ghost, of whom lectured him daily about his lack of gardening skills.

Frodo was just the cutest darn thing, though. He eventually warmed to Thorin enough that he soon began spending all day at the Lonely Mountain with him. It wasn't an uncommon thing, to see a child with their parent or sibling or guardian at his ward, so no one pointed it out.

"I don't want to see Uncle Bilbo." Frodo said one day, pulling on Thorin's hand a little too tightly as they made their way to Bilbo's room. 

"Why not?" Thorin asks.

Frodo's lip wobbled. "Because... Because..."

Thorin sighed, and pulled Frodo up into his arms. Frodo pressed his nose against Thorin's neck and gripped fistfuls of his hair. "It'll all be okay, you know? Your Uncle will wake up, and he'll be so happy that you read to him every day." Thorin says, rubbing a hand up and down the child's back. "He's going to be so proud of you, Frodo."

Frodo sniffled.

They didn't visit Bilbo that day.

 

"Do you think he'll be alright?" Bilbo asks as four months since his admittance roll past. There was only a few more months before they would have to turn off his life-support. The thought made Thorin's eyes burn. "If I don't wake up."

"He's a smart kid." Thorin says as he sits side by side with Bilbo, looking out of the window he had opened an hour ago. The curtains fluttered with the breeze, opening a view to the night-time world outside. It seemed so far away, everything on the other side of the window, even though Thorin knew that if he wanted to he could reach out a hand and his fingertips would leave the room. 

"Even if he's smart, he's not always strong." Bilbo was looking down at his hands. Thorin knew that Bilbo ached to touch something, _anything-_ and have it feel _real._

"He'll be alright. I'm sure."

Thorin hated lying.

 

Ghosts didn't really get sick. Thorin had learned to notice the signs of decline, though - they got paler, quieter, and seemed to withdraw in on themselves just like someone who talked and walked did when they fell ill. 

Bilbo was looking dreadfully pale, but Thorin didn't say anything. "I wish Frodo would visit." Bilbo confided one day. "I don't want his only memory of me to not be... recent. I want to see his face."

Thorin frowned, and clenched his hands. Wordlessly, he fished through his pocket until he felt something hard. He pulled the crudely made necklace from his coat, and slipped it around Bilbo's body, over his mess of honey coloured curls. Frodo had made it, and given it to him a few days ago - the sweet little thing had strung together a bunch of randomly coloured beads and painstakingly explained the meaning of each colour, and why he thought they would suit Thorin.

It was a gift he felt very cherished to have. Frodo was a very special child, anyone who saw him with those big blue eyes could tell. He had felt rather reassured with the weight of the gift in his pocket.

He thought it might make Bilbo feel better.

The ghost smiled faintly - he could recognise Frodo's handiwork. Bilbo stretched out a hand and traced the beads with his fingertips. He had learnt to look at his body without his face falling, and Thorin didn't know how he felt about that anymore. He hoped Bilbo could feel the beads, but he'd never know.

"Do people who wake up remember you?" Bilbo asks.

"No." Thorin says.

"Never?"

"Never."

 

Thorin could tell that Bilbo ached to see Frodo. He saw that feeling of being alone reflected in Bilbo's eyes as if it were his own, and in the way Bilbo's hands anxiously smoothed down his bed sheets and how Bilbo would wriggle his bare toes together for hours without realising.

He was starting to understand why the Lonely Mountain was named so.

 

The checkout girl behind the register had given him odd looks when he placed his strange arrangement of items down. He paid her no mind, though he fidgeted impatiently, somewhat embarrassed.

A call from Bell Gamgee had prompted him to buy such strange things. 

_"My sister went into labour - it's a high risk birth, blood pressure trouble and all, and oh I have to take Sam with me- Hamfest is on a business trip- what am I going to do about Frodo?"_

She had been so frazzled and panicky that Thorin had taken pity on her and offered to mind Frodo overnight at the hospital. There were pull-out beds in the armchairs beside the patient beds, and Thorin was sure he knew exactly where the comfiest pillows were hidden.

The only problem was that Frodo hadn't seen Bilbo in twenty-two days. The little boy could tell that Bilbo wasn't getting better, and Thorin could only imagine how difficult it was for him. Such a young thing should never have been subjected to the loss of his parents only to have his only relative suddenly be struck with something so terrible. 

Still, Thorin was sure his plan would work.

"Ready to go?" He asks Frodo as he finishes his rounds for the night and picks up the bags from behind his desk. 

Frodo looked like he wanted to cry again, and placed down the pink highlighter he had found on someone else's desk he had been drawing with. "What are in the bags?" He asked, eyeing them.

Such a smart kid. "It's a surprise." Thorin answered. 

Frodo had only agreed to go with Thorin after Thorin promised to hold his hand the entire way, and to never leave him. Thorin had no intention of letting the kid out of his sight in the first place, but it made Frodo feel better to hear it spoken, so Thorin complied.

Frodo's grip had tightened as they entered Bilbo's room. Bilbo was sitting on the edge of his bed, as always, and tried to hide his pained expression as Frodo entered the room half hidden behind Thorin's legs. 

Thorin spent a moment opening up the bed and arranging the cushions and blankets he had brought in earlier, before lifting Frodo up and depositing him straight into the middle of them. 

Frodo, despite his anxiousness, leaned across the bed to gently touch Bilbo's cheek. "That's your necklace." He says.

"Yes." Thorin agrees. "It is. I thought Uncle Bilbo might like to wear it, don't you agree?"

Frodo smiled shyly, and nodded, without taking his eyes away from his Uncle's face.

"Will you close your eyes for me?" Thorin asks. "Just for a little, and you have to promise not to open them."

Frodo looked up at him nervously, and it took a moment before he nodded. "Okay..." He leaned back against the chair, and covered his eyes with his hands. "Don't go..."

"I won't." Thorin says as he riffles through the bags. "I promise."

"What are you doing?" Bilbo asks him curiously.

Thorin offers him a small smile.

It only took him a few minutes, and when he was done he went to flick the lights off. He grinned at his masterpiece, before moving to settle down beside Frodo. He gripped the child's hand. "You can open your eyes now."

Frodo did, slowly, before gasping.

Bilbo's bed was covered in twinkling fairy lights, and there were candles flickering on the bedside table. Thorin had placed a flower-crown (of fake flowers) around Bilbo's head, knowing his love of gardening, and even bought a bunch of lollies and juice for Frodo of which he had laid out on the bed.

"Your Uncle likes tea, right?" Thorin gestures to the teapot sitting beside the candles. 

Frodo nods, eyes watering, and grips Thorin's arm tightly. 

Thorin really hoped Bilbo woke up.

 

"Thank you." Bilbo murmurs, six months after being admitted. 

"What for?" Thorin asks, drawing the curtains closed. It was a futile attempt - the window was still open, and a breeze persistently pushed at the curtains; Bilbo liked it open, so he didn't shut it. The moon was high in the sky, surrounded by a blanket of twinkling stars.

"For everything." Bilbo shrugs, gripping his arms tightly. His eyes began to water, and he began to tremble.

Thorin clenched his hands tightly, before forcing them to relax. Slowly, like approaching a wounded animal, he slipped his arms around Bilbo-the-ghost and rested a hand on top of Bilbo's head. He could feel _something,_ he thought, something warm and faintly solid - he'd never been able to feel a ghost before, but here was Bilbo, shaking in his arms.

Moments passed, before Bilbo's arms lifted and held on tightly to the back of his jumper. The shorter man pushed his head against Thorin's neck, and for the first time since falling into a coma, he began to cry.

 

They were going to turn off his life support. Thorin protested, his heart racing, protested enough to shock the doctors who were used to forlorn resignation from him.

"He might wake up, still." The doctor offered weakly. "It might kick start his heart, and he might breathe on his own."

_But he might not._

Still, there was nothing Thorin could do. He flinched, hard enough for the doctor to notice, when the life support was turned off because he could feel a little hand touching the back of his shoulder.

The room was soon empty of ghosts, and Thorin had never felt so alone in the Lonely Mountain.

 

Bilbo's body jolted. A heart-wrenching gasp filled the room, because Bilbo was alive and _breathing-_

But then pain filled Thorin. 

_"Do people who wake up remember you?"_

_"No."_

_"Never?"_

_"Never."_

 

Bilbo didn't wake up, not for another week. The doctor said it was to be expected.

A sick, twisted part of Thorin deep down didn't want him to. He wanted to hold onto the ghost of Bilbo of whom he'd fallen deeply in love with - he wanted the Bilbo that he'd known. The Bilbo that ached to feel something real and stared out of the window at night as if he could feel the cold breeze and the Bilbo who looked at Thorin as if he were the world even when he knew there was so much more just outside those doors. 

But Bilbo woke up. His doe brown eyes fluttered, and his face pulled into a pinched expression because the lights were so bright and the air was so breathable that it probably hurt.

Those eyes had wondered over the room, curious and new, and Thorin prepared to give the speech that he gave to all newly awoken ghosts. He had opened his mouth to say something (anything), but he couldn't, because Bilbo's eyes had finally found him.

"Thorin."


	3. The Way In Which You Think

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Even at age eleven, Bilbo could tell good people from the bad.  
> Being placed in Hufflepuff did not change that.

Bilbo wrung his hands nervously as he followed the tall Professor through the halls of Hogwarts. Everything around him was so _big,_ and he was so _small..._ it was very disconcerting.

"You will wait here until I come and guide you into the Great Hall." She stops at the top of the staircase and turns to give them a look that clearly told them to stay put. "From there you will be sorted into your Houses and you will take your place at your house table."

She watched them for a moment, anticipating questions, but upon receiving none she turned and left.

Bilbo pressed his hand over his heart. Truly, he was terrified. He'd hardly left his house in the Shire before coming to this wizarding school. He reasoned that it was alright for him to be nervous, all things considered. 

His mother was a witch (it came from her Took side, so it had hardly been a shock when she received her letter) but his father was a muggle (not that he minded, because his father was so helplessly in love with his mother that he didn't care if she often burned the carpet or vanished all the windows in the house with a misplaced spell). Bilbo himself was shocked to get his own letter, because he had never shown any magical inclination prior to his birthday.

"Are you alright?" A gruff voice asks.

Bilbo startles, turning wide-eyed to the boy behind him. He had to look up because the boy was a few inches taller than him - but what he saw was definitely something he could appreciate. The boy had piercing blue eyes and a mop of wavy dark hair. He had a nose that was a little large for his face, but Bilbo knew he would grow into it in the next few years. 

"Are you?" He asks again, frowning at Bilbo's stunned silence.

Bilbo, realising how impolite he was being, flushed. "S-sorry, I'm alright." He says, gripping the sleeves of his cloak between his fingers tightly. "I think."

"I'm Thorin." He says, sticking out a hand. "Thorin Oakenshield."

Bilbo offers his hand shyly, smiling a little when Thorin gives him a strong handshake. "I'm Bilbo." He says quietly. "Bilbo Baggins."

"You don't need to be nervous." Thorin says. "My friend, Dwalin, is in his fourth year and said that it's not scary."

Bilbo nods, though he is unsure what to think. "It's just- I've never been so far away from home." 

Thorin nods. "That's understandable."

He's about to say something else, but then the Professor is back. She hurries the group of first-years into the hall, where thousands of eyes seem to stare right at Bilbo.

His heart lurches in his chest, and he contemplates making a run for it before anyone notices him when he feels Thorin's hands on the small of his back.

"Just keep walking." Thorin murmurs, offering him a tiny grin. "It'll be fine, you'll see."

Bilbo nods again, his curls bobbing, and as they collect at the front of the hall the Professor turns towards them and begins calling out names. Bilbo watches as the first person - a fairly tall boy with gangly limbs and a calm expression - walks up the stairs and sits on the stool placed directly in the centre of the podium. 

The hat the professor places on top of his head looks wilted and bowed, but Bilbo knows better - it barely sits in place for ten seconds before shouting out, _"Ravenclaw!"_

The responding table erupts into cheers and claps as the boy makes his way down with measured steps and a small smile.

Bilbo was suddenly wishing his last name started with a letter further down the alphabet, because it wasn't long until the Professor is calling his name and Thorin is nudging him forwards before he can turn and hide in the crowd of first-years. 

He sits on the chair and hides his shaking hands in the sleeves of his cloak. It was too long on him, even though it was a small size, because he was so small. When the hat is placed atop his head, it instantly slips down over his eyes and catches on his nose. He lets out an embarrassed whimper, and lifts his hands to slip it further back (though only his fingertips peek out from the cloak sleeves). 

He can hear the hat muttering and grumbling faintly, things like _"yes, so brave!"_ and _"but there is Took in him"_ and _"kindness at heart"_ but none of it really makes sense to him.

Finally, the hat shouts, _"Hufflepuff!"_

Bilbo's eyes dart to the table covered in black and yellow, where students of all sizes are standing up to clap for him. He spares a glance at Thorin, who nods at him encouragingly, before making his way over to them.

"Welcome to Hufflepuff!" A tall student instantly reaches for him, pulling him into the tightest hug Bilbo had ever felt. "Aren't you just the cutest little thing?"

"Galion, calm." A boy with a head full of dark, silken hair and fairly broad shoulders admonishes from across the table. "You'll scare Bilbo off."

Galion releases him with a somewhat forlorn expression, and allows him to take a seat at the table, though he makes sure to seat Bilbo beside himself. "I'm not scary." He says, before turning to give Bilbo an inquisitive stare. "Am I?"

Bilbo shakes his head, smiling bashfully at the brilliant grin Galion gives him. A few other students come to greet him, shaking his hand and ruffling his hair, as yet others greet him from their place down the table.

He could certainly get used to a house like this.

The sorting ceremony seems to move in a blur of shouted house names, and Bilbo anxiously waits until Thorin is called up to the stool.

The hat seems to mull over him for a long time. Eventually, it shouts out, _"Slytherin!"_

Bilbo expected the hall to rise in polite claps like it had done previously, so he was rather startled when the cheering of the Slytherin table was almost drowned out by the catcalls from Gryffindor, and faintly from Ravenclaw. Hufflepuff sat back in resigned silence, though many clapped - they seemed genuinely happy for Thorin, so Bilbo clapped along with them. 

"Why did they boo?" Bilbo asks Galion as he looses sight of Thorin at the silver and green table. 

Galion frowns, and glances at his lap.

It is the boy across from them who answers. "People stereotype Slytherin." He says quietly. "A lot of Dark Wizards have come from there."

"But they're not all dark!" Bilbo protests. "People are sorted into the houses that will benefit them the most, not because they'll turn dark!"

The boy smiles faintly. "Exactly." He says. "I'm glad you think that way. It is a good way to think."

Bilbo flushes at the praise, and glances down at his hands. Under the table, he is surprised to see the boy holding one of Galion's hands comfortingly, but he smiles nevertheless.

He just wanted the dinner to be over.

 

Thorin was not a difficult person to find, it seemed. He stuck out because he had a dominating presence - Bilbo was drawn to him, rather than pushed away, like many other people in their classes seemed to be. 

When their herbology teacher requested they pair up in twos for the day's lesson, Bilbo scrounged up all the courage he could muster and went to ask Thorin if he would like to pair up. He did not like to admit that he stuttered quite a bit, because Thorin's strong gaze was very intimidating for a first-year, but he was very pleased when Thorin agreed to work with him. 

They were working with Puffapods that lesson, it seemed. They had to be careful with them - when they came into contact with solid surfaces, their large, pink seedpods instantly flowered (which was not the aim of the lesson).

"Why did you ask me to work with you?" Thorin asks curiously as Bilbo gently passes him a Puffapod to place in a new, larger pot. 

"A-ah... I wanted to?" Bilbo says weakly, before shaking his head. "I wanted to." He says, firmer.

"Is that so?" Thorin grinned. He looked a lot younger when he was smiling, and it made Bilbo grin in return.

"Boys, great job!" The Professor calls out to them. They were at the back of the greenhouse, and she couldn't get past a troubling pair of students at the front, but she waved to them nevertheless. "It's great to see inter-house teamwork! Ten points each!"

Bilbo's eyes widened, and he turned to grin up at Thorin.

Thorin smiled back down at him, and took the next Puffapod Bilbo offered. "Aren't you scared of me?"

"No, not at all! Why?"

"Because I'm a Slytherin." Thorin says, as if it were obvious. "And you're a Hufflepuff."

Bilbo frowned. "No, you are Thorin, and I am Bilbo." He says. "Why would I be scared of you when you were the only one to help me during the sorting? I was so scared!" He admits with a bashful smile.

Thorin looks at him appreciatively, holding the Puffapod above the soil for a moment.

"Besides, I don't like the way everyone reacted when the hat said Slytherin." Bilbo begins to scowl. "Do they know how bad it must make new Slytherin's feel, to have everyone boo at you for no good reason? How _impolite!_ I will be friends with people based on their personalities, not their houses, thank you very much."

Thorin looked at him for a moment, before bursting into laughter that sounded oddly like a fit of giggles (and considering their age, Bilbo didn't find that all too strange).

"You're great, Bilbo." Thorin grins, throwing an arm around his shoulder with a slight flush to his cheeks. "We're going to get along great!" He declares as he jostles the smaller boy affectionately.

Bilbo grinned, feeling more at home at Hogwarts than he ever had.

He'd get along with Thorin wonderfully, he was sure.


	4. The Way In Which You Think Pt.II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> At fourteen years old, Bilbo still struggles to understand Thorin's teasing nature. He still can, however, tell the good from the bad, and knows exactly where Thorin fits into that equation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I decided to do a part two, but I'm not sure if I like the idea of a continuation? Mostly because I haven't done it before, so I'm unsure how I feel about it. 
> 
> If you think I should stick to single-part stories, then do tell me... If not, also tell me? I'll keep this chapter up for now, and think about doing further continuations of other stories later, if nobody minds ^^"

"No, no, no, I'm fine, really-"

"Are you sure? We could... help. I know you want me to."

Bilbo cringed, lifting his hands up higher. The three Gryffindor boys had cornered him after their Defence Against the Dark Arts class had ended, less than a moment ago. "Really, I'm just fine-"

The taller of the boys - and the one with the biggest mouth and stupidest grin - reached out to grab for Bilbo when a hand suddenly gripped his wrist.

"Don't touch him." A deep voice rumbled. 

Bilbo glanced up at Thorin sharply, and felt instant relief at the sight of his stern expression. The Slytherin boy was never too far behind him, or he was never too far behind Thorin, even when they did not share the same classes.

"Or what?" One of the Gryffindor's snarled, before the other jabbed him in the side harshly, hissing "He's _Thorin Oakenshield,_ the Slytherin Quidditch captain!"

Bilbo felt the beginnings of amusement begin to pull at his lips. He'd never seen the brave house of Gryffindor back off so fast at the sight of a single Slytherin boy. Thorin did have a reputation, though, so he couldn't blame them. The Slytherin was known to be fiercely loyal, and very protective of Bilbo in particular, with an attitude that rivalled Salazar's himself. Thorin was very grumpy most of the time, but Bilbo loved him nevertheless. 

Thorin growled at the Gryffindor's and forced them out of his way so he could lead Bilbo down the hall. They didn't protest. There were no more classes for the day, but Bilbo knew Thorin had Quidditch practice soon.

He had become captain of the Slytherin team by default; the previous captain got injured by a bludger during a game and it was decided she would no longer play. Instead, Thorin was appointed, despite him only being a fourth-year. To Bilbo, it made sense, because Thorin was a brilliant player and a strong leader. He was the perfect fit for the captain position.

"Thank you." Bilbo says, smiling at the taller boy as they make their way down the hallway. People in the respective portraits chattered animatedly as they walk past, but Bilbo no longer got distracted by them like he did in his first year at Hogwarts.

Just like he had once thought, Thorin had grown into his features now that he was getting older. He continued to grow taller, already many inches above the top of Bilbo's head, and his shoulders were getting steadily wider. Bilbo wondered if it were possible for him to get any more handsome than he already was.

"Why do you let them bother you?" Thorin asks with a frown, his arm tight over Bilbo's shoulder. "You could fight them off, you know. I taught you how."

Bilbo smiles faintly. "You know I don't think the way you do." He answers. "It's easier just to let them say what they wish and move on. There's no merit into getting into an argument with idiots."

Thorin snorted, and pulled him closer. "You are a strange little thing."

"Little" was not a word Bilbo liked to hear directed at him, but he tolerated it from Thorin. "And you are a big oaf." He retorts. "Who is going to be late for Quidditch practice."

Thorin offers him a dopey grin. "What would I do without you, Burglar?"

Bilbo flushes at the nickname. Most of Thorin's friends (who did not care for stereotypes and welcomed interactions from other houses) knew that he was capable of sneaking into the Slytherin dormitory (to see Thorin), and as such the nickname had arose after Thorin once likened him to a common thief. 

"Well you would suffer terribly, I'm sure." Bilbo says, crossing his arms in indignation. "You would never make your bed, and you would always forget when tea time is-"

"Not to mention I would be so terribly lost." Thorin croons, bumping their foreheads in a rare moment of immaturity. 

Bilbo nuzzles against Thorin's forehead in return, thankful, and for a moment he is silent. "You best be going." He says.

"I should." Thorin agrees, though he makes no move to leave. "Are you sure you're alright?"

"You worry over me too much." Bilbo says.

"That's because I care about you very deeply." Thorin answers. "I do not wish for you to be hurt, Bilbo."

"You sound like a concerned boyfriend." Bilbo sighs, pulling away.

Thorin saw the slight twitch in Bilbo's lips and the flush to his cheeks that gave away his feelings and couldn't help but grin. He darts down faster than Bilbo could comprehend, and steals a kiss from his lips.

"Am I not?" He whispers against Bilbo's lips, before pulling away with a cheeky grin. "See you later, my dear!"

Bilbo stood in the hallway spluttering after Thorin's disappearing figure, trying to comprehend what had happened. The portraits were all cooing at him, snickering and whispering behind their hands.

"Thorin!" Bilbo finally cries, storming down the hallway after him. "That was my _first_ kiss!"


	5. The Way In Which You Think Pt.III

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bilbo may know people well, Thorin included, but sometimes his insecurities get the better of him and it is he who was the lost one.

Bilbo frowned as he straightened his robes. He would have liked to think that the younger Slytherin's would have respected his wishes to stop hiding away his Hufflepuff tie, but alas he woke up to a green coloured one everyday.

He supposed it was Thorin's fault - if the oaf of a man would just tell them not to, even with just a look, then they surely would stop. Of course, Thorin found it utterly hilarious each morning. Yellow and green did not work together, so Bilbo felt rather ridiculous walking around with a Slytherin tie, but Thorin reassured him that he looked _ravishing._

Really, it was completely ridiculous.

"Thorin, are you ready yet?" He called towards the dormitories. He heard a muffled groan in reply, and satisfied, he headed towards the common room. 

It wasn't a strange thing to see the short Hufflepuff in the centre of all Slytherin affairs. Really, after his fourth year people started expecting it. His fellow Hufflepuff's (the kind dears they are) did not make a fuss over his room change. Some of the Slytherin's had a hard time adjusting - Thorin's older friend Dwalin, in particular, but he graduated that year after thankfully accepting Bilbo (but only after a week of Thorin's angry silence). 

"Bilbo, good morning!" An energetic brunette called from across the common room. Kili and Fili were brothers, their births only ten months apart, which left them both as first years. They were related to Thorin, somehow, but Bilbo was not good at keeping track of who was related to who, and how. Unsurprisingly, they had been sorted into Slytherin - Bilbo thought them to be very cunning, with rather sly grins and a penance for playing tricks. 

"Good morning, Kili." Bilbo answers warily. "And pray, where is your brother? You wouldn't know where my tie has gotten to, do you?"

"Your tie wander off again, Burglar?" Fili appears behind him, and slings an arm over his shoulder. It was a bit difficult - Bilbo was six years older than them, and thankfully still a bit taller. 

The perks of being a seventh-year, he supposed. He was still taller than the first-years, for now.

"Fili take your hands off of my Hufflepuff." Thorin grumbles, appearing out of the hallway behind them. He shoulders his younger relative out of the way and takes his appointed place draped around Bilbo's shoulders, making said boy roll his eyes in exasperation.

"Thorin you will develop a hunch if you insist on leaning on me like that." Bilbo grumbles.

"I am not that much taller than you." Thorin noses behind his ear sleepily, oblivious to the shiver that races straight down Bilbo's spine.

"You are seven inches taller than me." Bilbo frowns. _"Seven."_

Kili snickered, elbowing Fili in the stomach. "Look, Fi, he's _huffing."_

"That's why he's called a Hufflepuff, Ki."

"I know, right?"

Bilbo ran a hand down his face, and placed the other on his hip. Really, the entire Oakenshield (Durin? Who knows) family was very difficult to deal with. He didn't know how he coped half the time. "You two best be getting ready for breakfast." He says, casting a stern eye over the brothers who quickly quelled under his gaze. "And you, Thorin, best come with me lest I leave you here to be late for class."

Thorin grinned against the back of his head, taking a moment to gently touch the green tie around Bilbo's neck before he willingly allowed Bilbo to lead him from Slytherin's House. Bilbo knew it pleased Thorin to see him wear his tie (because they were always Thorin's that were left for him) so he didn't protest too rowdily. 

"What would you all do without me?" Bilbo grumbles, his cheeks puffing out in feigned annoyance. "You would all suffer, is what. People think Slytherin's are so cunning and devious and intelligent - well! I'd beg to differ! None of you lot would remember to eat if I did not prompt you each morning."

Thorin was humming in agreement, his arm warm and heavy around Bilbo's shoulder. "Of course, I agree fully."

"You're hardly listening to me." Bilbo accused. 

"I'm listening." Thorin protests. "I always listen to you."

Bilbo flushed pleasantly. He knew Thorin always listened to him, every word he rambled, even when half of it made no sense and even Bilbo was not paying attention to what he said.

Thorin always listened. 

Always.

Bilbo stopped walking, and frowned. Thorin put up with a lot from him, and sometimes he felt like he took too much without giving enough back. 

"Bilbo?" Thorin peered at his face, the last wisps of sleep leaving his eyes. "Are you alright?"

"You understand... how I feel, right?" Bilbo asks carefully.

"Feel...?"

"About..." Bilbo hesitates, "About you."

Thorin frowns at him, as if he found the question unfathomable. "Of course I do."

"But..." Bilbo starts softly, "But you understand, don't you? That I always say... I always say how you would do bad without me, but that isn't true."

"Bilbo, what has brought this on?" Thorin asks, concerned, as he raises a hand to grip the back of Bilbo's neck. 

Bilbo brushed off the grip and slipped his arms around Thorin's waist, pushing his head against Thorin's chest.

Thorin's hands instantly lifted to embrace him, one hand reaching up to card through his curls. "Bilbo." He murmurs. "What is the matter?"

"I would be lost without you." He mumbles. "You always say it is you that would be lost, but I cannot bear the thought of you ever leaving me." He says. "Don't leave..."

Thorin sighs and nuzzles against his hair. "You know I will not." He says.

Bilbo did know. Thorin hardly wished to leave his side during lessons that they did not share, and Bilbo often sat in on the Slytherin Quidditch practice so he could study where Thorin could keep an eye on him (though Bilbo kept an eye on Thorin, too, because Quidditch was rather dangerous). 

But still, their seven years at Hogwarts had not always been easy. Bilbo fretted over many things, from lessons to mealtimes to his future and where he would be ten years down the line. Bilbo worried about Thorin a lot, too, because he could not imagine his life without the comforting weight of Thorin warm across his shoulders. He could not imagine eating a meal without putting extra on his plate for Thorin to pick at (because he thought anything Bilbo had, even generic food, was better than what he could have, and Bilbo did not mind sharing) and he could not imagine falling asleep without the sound of Thorin's steady breathing (and sometimes, his soft humming) to aid him. 

He didn't exactly know what his relationship was with Thorin. They had always been together, even since their first year when Thorin had been the only one to comfort him through the terror of being away from home. He supposed that Thorin could be called his boyfriend, but they'd never discussed it. They worked together like a well-oiled machine, and half the time communication was not needed.

Sometimes, though, he just needed to be with Thorin without the distractions of the world around them. 

"You do not need to fret, Bilbo." Thorin reassures, kissing his forehead gently. "You are a part of my heart that I could not live without. Do you understand, Bilbo? Do you understand me?"

Bilbo nodded, because he did, he understood. He needed to hear it sometimes, because sometimes he was irrevocably insecure, but Thorin was always, always, there to ease him. 

"Do you want to have breakfast?" Thorin asks, kissing his forehead again. "We don't have to. I'm sure your housemates will bring you something later, if you do not wish to go to the Great Hall."

"Okay." Bilbo mumbled. Generally, he hated to skip meals, but sometimes spending time with Thorin alone was something he valued more. He allowed Thorin to steer him down a hallway that lead away from the Great Hall and the classrooms, trusting Thorin to take him somewhere no one would find them. He kept a tight grip on Thorin's robe sleeve, reluctant to sever a physical connection. 

Eventually they entered an abandoned classroom down a hallway where no one bothered to go. The entire place was covered in a thick layer of dust, and most pieces of furniture had sheets thrown across them.

Years ago, when they were in their fifth-year, the two of them had stumbled across the Mirror of Erised. It was hidden away in this classroom, because no one knew where to find it, and none of the teachers had figured out they had discovered it. 

Bilbo knew that the mirror reflected what he desired the most. Even since he'd found it, he'd only ever seen one thing.

He'd seen himself. Older, a little taller, with a softer, more confident smile and a petite ring on his finger. He had a job, a nice, homely house with a wonderful garden and a tall, vibrant oak tree planted by his front window. 

And Thorin was at his side, older, a little taller, with a content smile and an arm around Bilbo's shoulders where he proudly displayed a band around his finger.

It was all he ever wanted, to be at Thorin's side and to have Thorin at his.

He often wondered what Thorin saw. Despite the amount of times they'd been locked away from the world in this room, they'd never told each other what they saw in the mirror. Half the time the mirror wasn't even uncovered by the sheet, because they felt no urge to waste away in front of it like countless others had.

Bilbo knew that what he wanted, what the mirror reflected at him, was already in his reach. He had only but to ask for it, and it would be granted - but the words never came to him, so he never asked. 

They'd promised to tell each other what they saw when they graduated - a sort of gift, he supposed.

But now seemed like a better time, even though they wouldn't going to graduate for another two months.

"Do you want to know?" Thorin asks, looking at the mirror hidden under a sheet. He understood, like he always did, that the secrets of the mirror were secrets that were finally meant be told.

Bilbo smiled faintly, and pressed his cheek against Thorin's arm. He could feel Thorin's muscles, built up from Quidditch, beneath the fabric of his robe and it was quite reassuring. "Tell me."


	6. Numinous

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bilbo, a half-deer creature called a Hobbit, discovers that going on an adventure with a Dwarf can prove that physical differences do not always stop gentle affections from blooming.

Bilbo frowned as his heightened senses detected a disturbance in his Bag-End. His place in the Shire was strictly his own; Hobbits, by nature, did not disturb other Hobbits unless they were expected, and even if they did disturb another (such as when Lobelia came in search of his silverware) they never... _fumbled_ so much.

Even from this distance he could hear rather heavy footfalls and grumbling breaths. He decided it was definitely not a Hobbit wandering through Bag-End - Hobbits did not have feet, instead hooves, so it could not possibly be a nosy neighbour. 

He briefly wondered if it were Gandalf, who often wandered through the Shire to visit. 

But it could not possibly be Gandalf. He was almost as silent as Hobbits when he walked. 

Bilbo could almost ignore the sound, but his curiosity was starting to get the better of him. He blamed his Tookish side - Hobbits were most definitely not adventurers, and adventures were certainly out of the question! 

And yet, here he was, a lonely little Hobbit finding his way towards a sound that an unknown creature was making. Possibly a creature that could swallow him whole, too.

What he found, however, was not a creature. Rather, it was a band of... Men? No, too small, considering they looked fully grown. They must have been Dwarves, then, and oh how Bilbo was so curious! He'd never seen Dwarves before. Men, yes, and wizards, certainly, but never Dwarves. Whatever where they doing all the way in the Shire?

He watched them for a while, following through the forest. He knew Bag-End better than anyone else, but these Dwarves seemed to be completely and utterly lost. There were five of them in total, though Bilbo suspected there were probably more lost somewhere in the Shire. It was rather easy to get lost on the winding paths that thinly made a way through the Shire - these woods were so thick and so difficult to travel through that only Hobbits were able to navigate them freely.

Well, Hobbits and a certain, pesky wizard. 

Bilbo watched, curious, as the said grey wizard wandered out of the trees as if he owned Bag-End, rather than Bilbo.

"Still lost, are we?" Gandalf questions. There was a twinkle in his eyes that made Bilbo wary.

"Quite." The leader of the Dwarves, a standardly tall one with long, dark hair, growled at Gandalf with enough distrust in his voice to make Bilbo's tail stand. "What are we even doing here?"

"Visiting an old friend." Gandalf answers. 

"And this old friend is our help?" The Dwarf glowers. 

Bilbo, unused to seeing such open irritation, takes a few cautious steps back. His hoof catches on a loose branch, and with a terrible lurch in his heart it _snaps._

He hardly saw the arrow that shot his way, not until it flew right past his ear. The younger looking Dwarf with light brown hair had shot it, fear evident in his eyes - his blonde haired companion was gripping his shoulder tightly. 

Bilbo's eyes widened. Hunters... they're _hunters!_ Only Hunters used bows for killing! 

The Dwarves were approaching, meters away when he finally turned and ran. His heart leapt into his throat as tears stung his eyes, and he did not worry about being silent as he dashed over the foliage on the ground. He stumbled, and fell to the ground as another arrow whizzed over his head. They thought he was an enemy!

"Kili, hold your arrow-" He heard the leader Dwarf yell as a suddenly boom of magic rumbled through the ground. 

"Enough!" Gandalf's voice shook the birds from the trees as he suddenly appeared in front of Bilbo's prone form. "He is no enemy of yours!"

"Gandalf, what is the meaning of this?"

"Wait there." Gandalf says, "So you don't make this situation any worse than it already is. Thorin, come with me, and do not argue."

Bilbo drew his legs to his chest, shrinking under the weight of Gandalf's gaze when the wizard drew closer.

"Bilbo, my friend, I apologize for their behaviour." Gandalf offered his hands, gently pulling Bilbo upright, and keeping him stable until his knees stopped shaking. "I do not wish for them to frighten you."

Bilbo's ears pressed against his skull. He couldn't stop his hands from trembling. He'd never been shot at with an arrow, let alone two. "I-I'm afraid that- it's a little too late for that." He whispers.

Gandalf pats his head reassuringly, something he only did to fauntlings in the Shire, but Bilbo felt reassured by the action nevertheless. "You do not need to fear these Dwarves, I would have not brought them to your home if I believed they were a danger to you or any of those living in the Shire."

The wizard's words reassured him a little. Bilbo trusted Gandalf, even if the wizard put him on edge half the time. He brought Bilbo stories and tales of the world outside the Shire, and though he attested that to his un-Hobbity adventurous streak, he could never hear enough. 

"Now then." Gandalf pulled Bilbo forwards, "Bilbo Baggins, meet Thorin Oakenshield, heir to the line of Durin."

_His eyes... they're blue!_

It wasn't as if he hadn't seen blue eyes before, but the Dwarf's eyes weren't the blue of Hobbit eyes. Bilbo had never seen a colour quite so riveting.

But his expression was so stern. Thorin had a strong nose and a strong jaw line. His lips were pressed in a tight line that made Bilbo want to wince. Bilbo would have thought that the Dwarf were still angry if not for the curiousness clear in his eyes. 

And how those eyes seemed riveted on _him!_ They moved over his lower half first, taking in his four legs and his slightly curly, brown fur with his white spots (of which he was very proud of, because they were very admired by other Hobbits for their neatness; not a strand of white fur out of its place). Those eyes lingered on his tail for a moment, still tucked between his hind legs, before moving to his human torso. 

Bilbo felt oddly bare, and resisted the urge to hide away his pale skin. A collar of thick fur grew around his neck, coloured the same as his body, leading to his pale face and wide, brown eyes. In his curly hair, two small antlers curled upwards. Matching pointed ears poked through his hair. 

All his instincts told him to hide away, because Hobbits were scarcely seen by other races, but the greater part of his mind (that he thought was definitely his Tookish side) told him to hold his ground, because the Dwarf was curious and it was only natural.

Besides, Gandalf would protect him if Bilbo were threatened. It was Gandalf who brought the Dwarves to Bag-End, anyway.

"What are you?" Thorin asks. He has the decency to look abashed a moment later, as if he had not expected to say such a question out loud. 

Bilbo frowns. "I'm a Hobbit, of course." He says indignantly. "And you are a Dwarf."

"I am." Thorin confirms. He turns his eyes to Gandalf. "You expect such a small creature to help us?"

"I am not small!" Bilbo argues before Gandalf can answer. "I shall have you know that I am a perfectly average size for my species."

Thorin frowns. "Then you are all small." He says. "Why do you have spots? Only fauns have spots, do they not?"

Bilbo huffs, outraged. "My spots are none of your concern, thank you very much! You should know that spots as neat as these," He gestures to his back, "Are highly valued! Not a strand of fur out of place!"

"You have fur!" Thorin argues. "That is not normal."

"You have feet!" Bilbo counters. "And hair on your face! _That_ is not normal."

"I think you are mistaken!"

"Well I think you are the mistaken one." Bilbo puffs out his cheeks, and crosses his arms. "You come fumbling through my forest like nothing more than a lost child leading a pack of lost children, and you are hunters no less! The worst kind of travellers. I suppose your Dwarvish _fiends_ have killed animals with that bow!"

"Of course, we are meat eaters. That is our diet!"

"It is barbaric!"

Gandalf was looking faintly amused at the childish arguing. "I knew you two would get along."

They turned to look at him together. "We are not getting along!"

 

They ended up getting along - but it took a very long time.

It had taken at least a week to convince Bilbo to join the company of Dwarves on their journey. Bilbo had been right to assume there were more, because the rest of the company had appeared at his home a day after the first five. He had never been more frazzled than he was trying to preserve his precious Bag-End from a hoard of hungry Dwarves who simply refused to eat his vegetables. 

Of course, they'd had no choice - he'd refused to house them (or guide them out of the Shire) if they dare hurt a woodland creature. 

"I still believe your hooves must be much too loud, Burglar." Thorin had said as they journeyed. Gandalf had put some notion in their heads that he was a burglar, that he could steal away a precious gem they desired to gain back their lost Kingdom.

Of course, he probably could be a burglar if he were not so anxious all the time, though he did not dare tell him that.

"You did not hear me follow you through the Shire." Bilbo countered. "Not until I stepped on that twig in fear of you."

"I do not understand that."

"Hobbits do not show anger." Bilbo explained plainly. "It is unbecoming."

The frown Thorin had given him made him snicker.

Other times Bilbo found himself fascinated by Dwarves. Ori was very interested in what he had to say, and rather polite for a Dwarf, despite the fact that he despised vegetables the most. Bombur, while he was slow to warm to Bilbo's diet, eventually began to enjoy cooking with a variety of new ingredients.

Kili had warmed to him rather quickly, and promised never to shoot an arrow in his direction again. He had been very apologetic for his actions, and Bilbo did not have the heart to stay angry at him for long. He and his brother, Fili, were very devious, but were also very considerate, when they chose to be.

Oin and Gloin were very homely. Gloin often spoke of his son to Bilbo, which pleased the Hobbit quite a bit. Oin told him stories of dwarrowlings from his old home, and taught him new medical applications that Bilbo had not learnt before. Dori and Nori were also quite friendly, and often played wonderful music on their flutes for Bilbo to listen to.

Dwalin still intimidated Bilbo. His brother, Balin, was a lot more polite, and could hold a steady conversation with Bilbo. The Hobbit thought him to be very wise, and supposed that if he were ever in need of advice he would most likely seek out Balin. 

Bofur was great company. He was very jovial, and Bilbo thought he had a compatible personality with himself. The Dwarf often carved things from wood to show Bilbo, and even offered his hat when Bilbo's small antlers had gotten cold (though Bilbo politely declined, more concerned about the Dwarf's lack of fur than a bite of cold on his own head). His cousin, Bifur, didn't really speak but his silence was comfortable to the Hobbit. 

Still, despite his eventual friendship with the Dwarves, Bilbo continued to butt heads with Thorin frequently. It wasn't as spiteful as their first meeting, but more so it was companionable. Half the time, Bilbo felt as though they got along splendidly. Eventually, he considered them to be friends. 

He often sat with Thorin during the night, when the other Dwarves rested around the fire. It was strange to sit by someone who was larger than him by a fair bit (though much, much easier than sitting beside Gandalf). Bilbo did not know if it were more polite to sit on his hind legs, with his front ones upright, which left his head above Thorin's when the Dwarf was seated. He usually sat with all four legs tucked beneath him, but then he was a head shorter than Thorin.

The Dwarf found his predicament rather amusing, and commented that he did not mind how Bilbo sat, as long as he were comfortable with his "strange, hooved feet". A thinly veiled insult (that was not insulting, but rather amusing) hidden behind a polite statement - Bilbo thought he was being very much like a Hobbit in that moment.

Their relationship, for what it was worth, progressed rather steadily.

"Tell me about Hobbits." Thorin requested one night.

"Well, there is much to say about Hobbits." Bilbo answered. "Though I suppose not much of it is interesting. What do you wish to know?"

"Anything you are willing to tell."

Bilbo hummed. "Well, Hobbits are generally reclusive." He says. "We live in our homes and only associate amongst ourselves. Very gossipy, we are, though I do not care much for other's affairs. People are always talking about others' spots."

"Your spots?"

Bilbo nods. "Yes, our spots. A shiny coat indicates that a Hobbit takes care of themselves, and a well-maintained coat is easy to spot if one knows what they are looking for." Absently, he strokes the fur around his neck. 

"And what of your antlers?"

"Well, they grow in when we are a teen." Bilbo says. "Size isn't really an issue. They don't serve much of a purpose, considering we have hands to reach for fruit in taller trees. I suppose they provide protection for our ears, though. Very sensitive, Hobbit ears."

"Is that so?" Thorin murmurs.

Bilbo nods. "It is. It's not polite to touch another's ears without asking; generally, it's only done by your partner, or your parent. Though I suppose that's the same with our fur too, however not as much as the ears. You don't want to let another touch your fur if it can be avoided. It's an intimate thing, to help maintain another, you know? My mother always used to brush my father's fur, when I was just a little thing."

"And your mother...?" Thorin asks carefully.

"Oh, she and father have passed." Bilbo answers. "Quite some years ago. She was an adventurer, my Mother. Many looked down on her because of it - Hobbits hardly leave their homes, you see - but my father was so in love with her that he would have followed her anywhere. They were an ideal couple."

Thorin smiles faintly. "They sound lovely."

"Oh, they were, but make no mistake, cross my mother and she'll have you by the ears apologizing." Bilbo laughed, letting himself drop to the ground on his back. It was a vulnerable position; his entire stomach was bared to Thorin, but he felt no fear. Above him, the stares twinkled brightly against their dark background. Faintly, he could hear the snores of a Dwarf from the makeshift camp, not so far away.

"Your fur is thick." Thorin remarks, eye his stomach appreciatively.

Bilbo flushes, and hopes Thorin cannot see. He busies his hands with the fur around his neck. "It is." He answers. "Why do you think I wear no cloth like Dwarves and Men do?"

"So you feel no cold?"

"Well, winter is cold." Bilbo answers. "My fur thickens, but not enough to stave away the bite of snow. Best to stay inside, especially if you are young. The cold is not good for children."

"Aye, it isn't." Thorin agrees. 

"And Dwarves?" Bilbo asks. "Anything you wish to tell?"

"Well, Dwarves prefer not to live in the woods." Thorin begins. "The mountain is where we belong, with our forges and our families."

Bilbo grew to love hearing about Dwarves. He often fell asleep to the stories Thorin told him, his legs stretched out comfortably across his spot on the ground. Sometimes he fell asleep resting against the Dwarf, and other times when the nights got colder Thorin slept beside him to fend off his shivering. 

When it got cold enough for Bilbo to mention it, Thorin gave him his coat to wear. Bilbo had tried to protest, but the Dwarf had enough clothing, he said, so Bilbo took the coat and wore it close for quite a while.

 

The Dwarven journey had come to a close. After everything that had happened, Bilbo thought that his Thorin would send him away, send him back to the Shire all alone.

But Thorin requested that he stay - he begged a struck-silent Bilbo, not realising that Bilbo had no desire to ever leave. And when he had said so, Thorin's arms had wound around him and sifted through his fur and touched the curve of his ears, delighting in his delicate shiver.

Bilbo was an adventurous Hobbit, and he was a Hobbit that had been on an adventure. It was a strange thing to think, but a thought he was no opposed to. 

But he had grown to love a Dwarf, and Hobbits only love once. He had feared Thorin's reaction, but he needed not to worry. He couldn't have been gladder when his affection was returned, despite their physical differences. 

"Are you sure this is what you want?" Bilbo asked Thorin once, as they stood with both their hands connected, facing one anther under the archway in Erebor. The moon cast shadows across Bilbo's face, highlighting his white spots, and for the first time since meeting the Dwarves he realise just how different they truly were.

"Of course." Thorin had answers, pressing his lips against Bilbo's forehead. "Do you have regrets?"

Bilbo shook his head, smiling faintly.

No, he had no regrets.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I kind of imagine that these Hobbits can turn into the canon-Hobbits for certain purposes, after they finding their "One" ^w^  
> Just an idea I was playing with~ 
> 
>  
> 
> numinous  
> (adj.) describing an experience that makes you fearful yet fascinated, awed yet attracted - the powerful, personal feeling of being overwhelmed and inspired.


	7. The First Flush Of Morning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bilbo often rises early in the morning to prepare the day's desserts for his bakery.  
> Thorin can't seem to sleep without his lover at his side.

Bilbo hummed as he smoothed his flour-stained hands down the front of the apron he wore. He certainly did not look like a respectable bakery owner at the moment, but he found that he hardly cared. 

His pastries were just about done baking. He'd tried out a new recipe this morning - it was as much of an adventure as his poor heart could handle these days. He was sure they would taste absolutely delicious, though. 

When the timer (an acorn shaped thing that his lover, Thorin, had gifted him one year) finally dinged on the counter, Bilbo couldn't help but jump. Even though he expected it, he was still shocked from his thoughts, but a grin soon came over his face as he reached for his oven mitts and carefully pulled the tray from the oven.

"Bilbo, my love...?" A sleepy voice called from the upstairs apartment. 

"Down here, Thorin." He called up the stairs, setting the tray on the counter before moving the pastries onto a wire rack to cool. 

"What are you doing awake so early?" Thorin yawns as he shuffled into the kitchen, wearing nothing but loose pyjama pants. 

Bilbo tried not to ogle, he really did, but Thorin kept wonderful shape of himself and it most certainly showed. His eyes lingered on Thorin's defined chest and his rather broad shoulders, though eventually his eyes were drawn up to Thorin's.

Those eyes were the first thing that attracted Bilbo to the taller man, after all. They were so blue, and so strong - they conveyed a sense of sternness and thinly veiled superiority that Bilbo knew was only hiding a more vulnerable side to Thorin that he did not wish for strangers to see. 

Of course those eyes right now were glued to Bilbo's bottom, and were covered in a thin sheen of water that gave Thorin a rather sleepy expression. 

"I was trying a new recipe." Bilbo says, welcoming the embrace Thorin gives him as the taller man all but falls into his arms. "Are you still tried? I did not mean to wake you."

Thorin shook his head. His hair was loose, and tickled Bilbo's cheek. "You did not wake me, love. I just missed you in bed, is all. It's rather cold without you to cuddle up to."

Bilbo huffed, his cheeks filling with embarrassment. "Well if you wore proper clothing then you would not feel the cold as easily." He says.

Thorin chuckles, and yawns again. "Alas, I fear it will not be the same without you pressed to my side."

Bilbo rolled his eyes, but pressed his lips against Thorin's nose affectionately. He reached up and ran his fingers through Thorin's tangled locks, and absentmindedly pulled the hair band off his wrist to tie it all up in a loose bun. Thorin would be wanting a haircut soon, even though Bilbo adored his hair when it was longer. 

"Would you like to try it?" Bilbo offers.

Thorin nods and hauls himself upright. His lifts his arms up and over his head in a leisurely stretch, and Bilbo is once again distracted by the sight of his bare form, and oh how _ravishing_ he looked-

He shook his head, trying to prevent his face from flushing, but is was pointless to try. Instead, he busied himself with picking out the nicest looking pastry and filling it with the vanilla flavoured custard he had made earlier. Just to top it over, he lightly sprinkled icing sugar over the top, before turning and offering the dessert to Thorin with a sheepish smile.

Thorin ducked his head down and took a bite of the dessert right out of Bilbo's fingers. He lifted his eyes to look straight at Bilbo as he poked his tongue out to lick to tip of Bilbo's thumb. Bilbo tried not to whimper as heat coiled tightly within his stomach. Thorin always picked the strangest times to be so devious, but eventually Bilbo found that he did not mind all too much...

"It is delicious." Thorin murmurs, his hands reaching for Bilbo's hips. "As always, you astound me with your talents. I fear that I will become lazy and out of shape if you continue to grow in baking prowess."

Bilbo giggles - _giggles, _like some teenaged school boy - at the blatant flattering. Flattery it may be, but he knew that Thorin meant every word he said, and it was that raw honesty that set Bilbo's heart aflutter. "I think I'm the one of out shape, between us two." He replies, poking Thorin in the chest with the tip of a finger.__

__When their relationship had just begun, Bilbo often worried over his body shape. He had a layer of cushioning over his hips and thighs, and his cheeks were remarkably full compared to Thorin's. He thought that Thorin might become fed-up with someone as unattractive as him at his side._ _

__But Thorin treated him like his most precious treasure, and never missed an opportunity to gloat and show off Bilbo, even when Bilbo himself was rather embarrassed. Bilbo had lost count of the times Thorin had laved over his body, over the parts he had been ashamed of, with his tongue and his lips and his hands._ _

__"I beg to differ." Thorin purrs, jerking Bilbo tight against his chest as he slips his hands around to cup Bilbo's rear end. "I think your body is the most delicious thing in this room."_ _

__Bilbo has to hold back a moan as Thorin's large hands begin to knead his skin. He could feel their warmth even through the layers of clothing he wore. And there was definitely something pressing against him from Thorin, too. "Not," He says, slightly breathless, "Not in my kitchen."_ _

__Thorin grins brightly, proud of himself for so easily seducing Bilbo (even though Bilbo did not put up might of a fight, but Bilbo wouldn't ruin his fun for fear of hurting his lover's pride)._ _

__Bilbo allows himself to be prompted from the kitchen, quickly whipping off his apron and hanging it on its proper hook by the door just before Thorin can herd him out. "Slow down, Thorin." Bilbo laughs. "The bedroom isn't going anywhere."_ _

__Thorin reaches out to grab at Bilbo's bottom, making him shriek. "Best early morning ever." Thorin mumbles around his grin._ _


	8. Sunday Mornings Are Best Spent When Not Alone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bilbo is stood up by his date.

Bilbo hadn't dated in a long time, not since he was in his late teens or early twenties, for sure. His career and home had come first in his life, and while he didn't regret that, he wished he had someone to share Sunday mornings with. 

Of course, he should have known that he was (regrettably) un-dateable. He was short, and sort of pudgy from a life of relative luxury, and he wasn't all that interesting to look at. He'd like to think that his personality made up for his physical appearance, but his sense of humour was terrible at best and he wasn't all that much of a conversationalist. Years of being reclusive writing books would do that to a person, but he had still hoped.

He had gotten a date, though - with a kind man he'd met through work friends at a lovely restaurant in town that had private booths and delicious food. He hadn't made the reservation, but he'd arrive first (a little late) and desperately hoped his date hadn't been left waiting. 

Well, he hadn't been left waiting, it turned out.

He hadn't shown up at all.

Bilbo had waited, making up excuses in his head. He had thought the man might have just been late - traffic, maybe, or maybe he had gotten lost (which made no sense because he made the reservation and therefore knew perfectly well where the restaurant was located). Bilbo had thought maybe he had gotten the time wrong, but that couldn't be it, because he was currently sitting at a table reserved for him and his date for tonight.

And if Bilbo was being completely honest, he would admit it hurt a little. His mother had always told him never to judge a book by its cover, and that you couldn't be friends with a person just because of the way they looked on the outside - _"the prettiest apple out there could have the reddest skin and the fullest shape, but if the inside is rotten, you won't eat it, now will you?"_

Bilbo knew there had to be someone out there who would love him. He wasn't unlovable, despite all the thoughts that told him he was. There had to be someone who would look at him one day and smile because Bilbo's face was the one they had been searching for-

There had to be.

So okay, being stood up without ever meeting the guy didn't hurt a little, it hurt so _goddamn_ much. Might as well take the shiny polished fork off the table and shove it right through his heart, because surely that would hurt less.

A person slid into the chair across from him. "You alright?"

Bilbo startled, and glanced up from where he had been frowning at his hands. The waiter that had meant to be serving his table sat across from him, looking at him as if he were seeing Bilbo for the first time. Bilbo opened his mouth to say something, but he closed it and glanced down when no words came, and instead, tears began to burn behind his eyes.  
Of course the waiter would have to talk to him; he was using a table that he had no need for, wasn't he?

"You got stood up, huh? That sucks." The waiter sighs, before offering his hand. "I'm Thorin Oakenshield."

Bilbo wipes at his eyes with his sleeve quickly, before placing his hand in Thorin's to shake. "Bilbo Baggins."

"Nice to meet you." Thorin grins. 

"I can think of more pleasant ways to meet." Bilbo offers a watery smile as he relaxes, realising Thorin wasn't asking him to leave. 

"I suppose there might be, but I'll take what I can get." Thorin chuckles. His eyes were very blue, Bilbo realised, like the sky on a mid-summer's day.

"Thorin, are you harassing the customers again?" A taller man with a similar face to Thorin's walks past, frowning disapprovingly at him. Thorin frowns back up at the man, and goes to say something only to be interrupted by a waitress with the same dark hair as Thorin. 

"Frerin, get back here!" She hisses, waving at him. "You're ruining Thorin's big chance!"

"Oh!" Frerin's eyes widen, and with a rather cheeky expression he slaps Thorin across the shoulder. "Good luck, big bro!"

Thorin, looking absolutely mortified, reaches for Bilbo's wrist and yanks him from his seat. "How about we get out of here?" He says, though it isn't a question. "It's getting a bit crowded."

Frerin laughs madly, and before Bilbo has the chance to process what has happened Thorin has pulled him from the restaurant and is leading him down the street by the wrist.

"Sorry about them." Thorin says as they come to a stop at a little courtyard park that borders the street. The only light given was from the lamp poles that formed a circle around the park, but it was sufficient. "They're my younger siblings, and they're awful."

"Okay." Bilbo answers, slightly out of breath as he attempts to smooth out his rumpled clothing. He'd spent at least an hour preparing himself this evening, and although his clothes weren't suit-and-tie formal, they were still formal enough for him to want to make sure they did not get damaged. "What were they talking about?"

Thorin flushes, and jerks a hand back through his hair. It was tied in a small, messy ponytail, but half seemed to have fallen out now. "Nothing, really."

Wordlessly, Thorin led him to a nearby park bench and all but falls onto it. 

"Ah, it's been a long night." He sighs.

Bilbo sits down beside the strange man. The bench was cold. "I'll say."

Thorin glances at him. "Want to talk about it?"

Bilbo glances down at his feet, where he was absently wiggling the toes of his shoes together. "Got stood up, is all." He says quietly.

Thorin frowns, and shrugs. "Their loss."

Bilbo chuckles humourlessly. "Probably for the better."

"How so?"

"Well, I'm not much to look at." Bilbo answers, lowering his eyes. "I'm not good at keeping up conversations, either. I haven't dated in so many years..."

"So?" Thorin argues. "That doesn't mean anything. If some girl can't even show up to meet you, then she's not worth it."

"He." Bilbo corrects with a despondent mumble. 

_"He's_ not worth it then." Thorin huffs, crossing his arms. "And I'll have you know I think you're painfully adorable, thank you very much."

Bilbo startles, and flushes. "You don't need to say that to make me feel better-" He starts, but Thorin cuts him off.

"I'm not." Thorin fixes his gaze to the side, turning red. He shakes his head, and turns his eyes back to Bilbo. "If you haven't dated in so long, why start now? You seem very capable of taking care of yourself, if you don't mind me saying."

Bilbo smiles ruefully. "It'd be nice not to have to, every once in a while." Bilbo admits. "Take care of myself, that is. Don't you think it'd be nice to spend a Sunday morning with someone? I suppose I just want to share my life with someone who will share theirs with me in return."

Thorin smiles faintly. 

Bilbo straightens his shoulders, and looks at Thorin properly. "How often do you do this?" He asks, somewhat teasingly. "Sweep a stood up customer off their feet."

Thorin grins, catching on to his teasing tone. "Oh, all the time!" He gloats, before letting out a laugh as Bilbo chuckles. "Really, I've never done this before." He says sheepishly. "But your date didn't show up and you looked so sad and they're an ass so I decided to take their place." He says, before giving Bilbo a charming smile. "And you're really cute."

Bilbo blushes darkly. He was so unused to such sincere compliments, but they felt so good.

"Can I have your number?" Thorin asks hopefully.

"Alright." Bilbo says nervously. He'd never done anything like this, after all. 

It was kind of exciting, but he didn't keep his hopes up.

There was still a part of him that believed nothing good would come of this. 

 

Bilbo's phone ringing woke him up one morning, when it was too early for the sun to be up. 

"Hello?" He asks, voice croaky from sleep as he rubbed at an eye tiredly.

"Bilbo, hello! Where do you live?"

"Pardon?" Bilbo frowned, yawning.

"It's me, Thorin. Remember?"

"Oh." He says, before flushing. _"Oh._ Thorin, yes I remember, but it's five in the morning. Why are you ringing me?"

"Where do you live? I'm coming over."

"Why?" Bilbo asks, his stomach coiling in nervousness. He felt like he was beginning some sort of adventure (and he'd never been on one, before).

"It's a surprise." Thorin laughs. "Just tell me. You'll like it, I promise."

He sounded so happy that Bilbo couldn't help but smile and give in.

Thorin promised to be at his home in five minutes, which gave some time for him to begin waking up. He was never a quick riser; Bilbo liked to lay around in bed leisurely, waiting until the sun was so bright he simply could not get back to sleep. 

He had barely managed to crawl out of bed and set the kettle to boil when his doorbell rang. With a groan of regret he wished he had gotten dressed before making tea, but there was no time and it was impolite to leave a guest waiting at the door. 

When he opened it, he found that Thorin was standing there in casual clothing with a box of cereal under one arm. "Good morning." He says, grinning. 

"'Morning." Bilbo says, half-hiding behind the door as he opens it wider to let Thorin in.

Thorin glanced around his home curiously, before turning to look at Bilbo with an appreciative glint in his eyes. 

Bilbo flushed again, because he really should have gotten dressed. He was barefoot, wearing thoroughly worn pyjama pants (that were too long and pooled under the heel of his feet when he walked) and an oversized sweater (that was perfect in winter but tended to slip off one of his shoulders and cover the tops of his hands). Not to mention the absolute birds' nest his hair had become. 

"Want some breakfast?" Thorin offers the cereal box with a shake and a subtle raise of his eyebrow. 

Bilbo takes the box in both his hands with a tired nod and another barely supressed yawn. "This way, then." He says, leading Thorin to the kitchen on autopilot. "Tea or coffee?"

"Tea." Thorin answers. 

Bilbo smiles a little. He didn't really like coffee, but he had it for when his editor came over (because the poor man needed it, with him as a writer). As the kettle boils, he turns to glance over Thorin again. He was wearing loose pants and a shirt that was a little tight in the chest area (which, of course, made Bilbo flush rather quickly). What caught his attention, however, is that fact that Thorin is wearing rather ridiculous slippers with little cat faces on them. 

Thorin catches him staring, and flushes. "Ah... they're comfortable?"

Bilbo laughs softly. "I like them." _That's so damn adorable!_

"I like your house." Thorin says, running his fingers over the edge of Bilbo's kitchen table that sat under a wide, circular window. It was cluttered with papers and thick editorials and countless pens (most are empty) and even an antique typewriter that Bilbo used sometimes, though only for leisure and never for work.

Bilbo was in the midst of making the tea when he realised the table was too cluttered to eat breakfast on. Usually he ate in his bed (though his mother was have never allowed it) and so there was no need for the table to be usable. 

With another flustered blush he stuttered an apology for the mess and gathered the sheets in his arms as neatly as he could. "I usually don't have company- oh what an atrocious mess, I truly am sorry-"

"Bilbo," Thorin laughed, "It's completely alright. I'm the one who suddenly came over, and at five in the morning no less. Really, this is hardly a mess at all. You should see Frerin's room." 

Bilbo offered him a relieved smile. Really, Thorin was too kind to him. Bilbo busied himself with gathering all the loose papers and work his editor had left in a neat stack, before moving them to the drawer they were supposed to be in. He left the typewriter where it was, because he really didn't have another place for it, and was about to open the curtains when the kettle finished boiling.

"Where are the bowls?" Thorin asks. 

Bilbo gestured to the cupboards above his head, and finished making the tea as Thorin made the cereal. Bilbo took the mugs to the table before reaching across it to pull the curtains open. 

The view outside was wonderful. The sky was beginning to be painted with the first colours of morning, but everything else seemed to rest on without a care in the world. Mornings were one of the nicest times of the day, when everything was calm and quiet, even though Bilbo himself slept on until the sun was high in the sky.

Thorin placed a bowl of cereal in front of him before taking a seat across the table. "Sorry about the cereal, I am a terrible cook and did not want to risk it."

Bilbo laughs, flattered that Thorin would go through all this effort to do this for him. "That's alright." He says, taking a seat. "So what is all this about...?" He asks, waving a hand.

Thorin flushes. "It's Sunday morning." He says. 

With a startle of realisation, everything clicks into place in Bilbo's head. _Don't you think it'd be nice to spend a Sunday morning with someone?_ "You remembered that?" Bilbo asks quietly, eyes wide. 

Thorin nods, bashful. "How could I not?"

Bilbo glances at the tabletop. He couldn't believe someone he'd only known for an hour had remembered such an inconsequential sentence, and even acted on it! It made him feel so appreciated, something he hadn't really ever felt before. 

He didn't even realise he was crying until Thorin let out a strangled moan. 

"I didn't mean to make you cry!" He exclaims, distressed. "Was it the cereal? I can't even make cereal!"

"It's not the cereal." Bilbo laughs hoarsely, rubbing at his eyes with the sleeves of his sweater. "It's just, no one has ever- no one had ever put so much effort into..." He waved his hand, gesturing between them. 

Thorin drags his chair around the table to sit beside Bilbo, nudging him with his shoulder (though he had to duck to do so, considering he was much taller than Bilbo). "Then that's their loss." He says with a grin, poking Bilbo in the side teasingly. "Cause I get to have the cutest guy and they don't, and when they realise their mistake I'll be there to laugh."

Bilbo laughs, squirming away from Thorin's hands. "Why are you doing this, though?" He asks. "You could have anyone you wanted with your looks-"

"So you think I'm attractive?" Thorin asks cheekily.

Bilbo blushes. "Well, yes I do, but that's not the point!"

Thorin chuckles. "It's your eyes." He says, and when Bilbo gives him a confused look, he adds, "They're what I first noticed about you. You're eyes, they're so expressive - even from across the room I could tell exactly what you were thinking through them. I've never seen anything so... pure, and I just..." He shrugs, looking embarrassed.

Bilbo smiled at him faintly. "Thank you."

Thorin returns the soft expression. "I really mean it." He says. "And when I saw you looking so sad because your date hadn't shown up, I just felt so irritated - why would anyone not want to be with you? I couldn't figure it out, but I also felt a little relieved, because I suddenly had this chance to talk to you, so I took it."

Bilbo flushed, and wriggled in his seat, rubbing his bare toes together. He was trying not to smile, but it was difficult, because he felt like that smile was bursting out from within. 

"Now, I hate to say this, but this is going to get really awkward really fast if you don't actually have an interest in me." Thorin flushes, rubbing the back of his neck. 

Bilbo's eyes widened - how could anyone not have an interest in Thorin? Especially after all that he'd done for Bilbo! - but he didn't know how to say the words. Instead, he smothered his blush and nudged Thorin with his shoulders. 

Thorin took the muted reply as a yes (thankfully) and grinned into his next mouthful of cereal. "Great! We'll make this a weekly thing, then?"

Bilbo flushes darker, and nods. He didn't mind waking up early if he got to do this every Sunday. Just the thought of not being alone on Sundays, of finally having someone other than his editor and his work acquaintances to talk to-

He'd never felt so elated. It was like going on a whole new adventure.

In fact, he was so happy that he hardly even hesitated before leaning over to rest on Thorin's side, ignoring the taller man's fervent blush as he smiled around the spoon in his mouth.

"What are you thinking of now?" Thorin asks curiously.

Bilbo grinned. "Adventuring." 

"Adventuring?" Thorin repeated, a teasing smile touching his lips as he watched Bilbo in pure adoration, as if he'd never seen anything he'd liked more.

Bilbo nods. "Adventuring."


	9. Misfire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There is a really big spider in his house and Bilbo concludes that his only solution is to move out.

Bilbo let out an indignant squawk as he lifted the plates in his sink to ready them for washing. There, sitting beneath the plate he had just lifted, was the _biggest goddamn spider he had ever seen._

And he _hated_ spiders.

In fact, he went out of his way to avoid them. If a spider was outside of his house, great, that's all fine, because it was not in his way and not actively trying to build it's sticky mess of a web in some unknown corner of his living room. All peachy keen.

But in his house?

In his _kitchen?_

_On the plates he eats food off?_

No thank you!

Gently sliding the plate in his hands onto the bench, he backs up from the eight-legged monster happily crawling around his dinner plates and reaches for the bug spray (extra strength) he had conveniently placed on the kitchen island. He grabbed it with both hands, inched back towards the sink, held it out and sprayed.

But nothing coming out.

His heart lurched, and he realised that the goddamn thing was empty after that whole escapade with a swarm of mosquitoes zooming in through his front door when he went out to get the paper in the morning. 

Bilbo cringed; he'd have to use a shoe to kill the spider. He hated using a shoe, because his aim was terrible and if the thing escaped up the wall and to the ceiling there was no hope of him killing it and he'd simply have to move out. 

With a deep breath in, Bilbo reached for a running shoe (that he owned to please his mother, because there was no conceivable way he'd ever go running in public) and crept up to the sink. The spider had raised it's front two legs and was waving them, as if it were happy!

"You won't be so happy for long, demon." Bilbo croons, laughing to himself as he raises the shoe. He closes his eyes and swings it down, yelping when the plate the spider was on shatters in the sink with a rather loud cracking noise.

And the spider, it was running up the sink and then the wall before Bilbo could even get a second swing in. The stupid thing seemed to _slip_ and suddenly fell back into the sink, making Bilbo shriek.

He was running from the room when a tentative knock on the door had him halting. He knew he must look so improper - hair wild, baggy pyjamas falling off his shoulder and pooling under his bare feet, and god he must look petrified - but he rushed to the door nevertheless, cringing when he realised his guest could probably hear his hurried footsteps.   
When he flung the door open, Bilbo was confronted by his (rather attractive) neighbour Thorin Oakenshield, who still had a hand raised to knock. 

"O-Oh, hello Thorin." Bilbo coughs to clear his throat, nervously glancing back down the hallway as if he expected the spider to come rushing for his feet. "Ah, good morning?"

"Good morning, Mr Baggins." Thorin nods, looking at Bilbo with a little concern in his eyes. "If you don't mind me asking, but are you alright? I heard something break, and you sounded rather distressed just a moment ago..."

Bilbo purses his lips, eyes wide as he mulls over the thoughts in his head. He fidgeted in his spot, rocking on his feet, and glanced back down the hallway. "Well, you see..."

"Is there anything I can help you with?" Thorin offers. 

Bilbo's shoulders slump in resignation. "There's a spider!" He cries. "On my dinner plates, well it was but it's moving, and it's really big! But I ran out of bug spray and I have terrible aim, you see, and- and... it's _really_ big." He rushes out in one, breathy go. "Can you... get rid of it for me, please?"

Thorin chuckles, and pats Bilbo on the shoulder. "If that's all there is, I'm sure I can help."

Bilbo breathes a sigh of relief, and opens the door wider. "Thank you, Thorin." 

"Where is the beast?" Thorin teases, making Bilbo chuckle tiredly.

"Kitchen." He says. "I think. Just... ignore the shattered plate, if you will."

Thorin laughs, and disappears down his corridor. Bilbo waits a few moments, before he hears a resounding thud and the sound of paper towel being broken off the roll. He flushes, both in embarrassment because of the entire situation and because Thorin was thoughtful enough to clean up the mess for him.

Thorin reappears from the hallway with a grin. 

"Thank you again, Thorin." Bilbo says. He flushes deeply when Thorin takes a moment to look at him with an appreciative glint in his eye, and reaches up a hand to smooth down his hair, embarrassed. "If there's anything I can ever do for you, don't hesitate to ask. You always do so much for me."

"Nonsense." Thorin waves a hand. "I only do what anybody would do."

"You do much more than I deserve!" Bilbo argues. "You helped me move in those heavy boxes from the curb, and you helped me hang my pictures evenly, and you even helped me build my bed." Because Bilbo was really bad at assembling things. "You even kill all the spiders..."

Thorin flushes under the praise, and gives Bilbo an award-winning grin full of charm and excitement. "Well, since you said _anything,"_ Thorin gives him a sly smile, "Would you go on a date with me?"

Bilbo turns red embarrassingly fast, and for a moment he is shocked silent. "O-of course!" He exclaims, eyes bright. "I-I mean, yes, if you would like."

Thorin's resulting grin was the biggest Bilbo has ever seen, and made his stomach roll in warmth. "See you later then, Mr Baggins."

"Y-you can call me Bilbo." Bilbo says quickly. "Just Bilbo." 

Thorin's grin turns sly. He bends, resting an arm against the wall above his head as he places his lips beside Bilbo's ear. "Alright then, I'll see you later _Bilbo."_ Cheekily, he presses a chaste kiss to Bilbo's cheek, and disappears out of Bilbo's front door with a teasing "Goodbye!" thrown over his shoulder.

Bilbo stands there for a moment, shocked, before gently closing his front door and, leaning his back against it, he smothers the smile stretching across his lips with his hands. 

_He's so cute!_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not pleased with the title of this, I spent half-an-hour trying to come up with one. Any suggestions would be welcome~ ^^"


	10. A Wrong Turn (On Purpose)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dis accidentally bursts into Bilbo's apartment, looking for her brother.  
> The outcome is rather embarrassing.
> 
> For Thorin, anyway.

Bilbo had simply been minding his own business when a wild-haired woman with a strong personality stormed through his front door. 

He'd yelped, and almost dropped his precious teacup when she did, because his heart was never that strong and he still jumped when the toaster popped even though he expected it.

"C-can I help you?" He'd asked as she'd stood in front of him, hands on her hips, with the biggest frown on her face. Somehow, Bilbo felt like he'd _disappointed_ her, and he couldn't help but cringe. 

Women. Simply terrifying creatures - best not to cross one.

"Is this Thorin's apartment?" She demands.

"Thorin?" Bilbo repeated, flushing a little. "Thorin Oakenshield?"

She nods. "Yes, that's him. He's my brother."

"He lives in apartment 14A." Bilbo says, offering a faint smile. "This is 14B."

The woman blinks at him, rubbing her chin thoughtfully, before nodding. "My mistake, then." She says, before sticking out her hand. "I apologize. I'm Dis."

Bilbo hurriedly rearranges the teacup from one hand to two, before offering the free one. "Bilbo Baggins."

Dis's eyes light up with a cunning glint. "You're _the_ Bilbo Baggins?"

Bilbo frowns, tilting his head to the side a little. "Ah, I think so? Yes." He nods, because he had never heard of someone else with the same name as him, so he supposed he had to be who he was.

"It's nice to meet you." Dis grins slyly, shaking his hand tightly, much like Thorin had first shook Bilbo's when the man had moved in. "Mind if we talk for a bit? I hope I'm not intruding."

She was, but Bilbo had been raised to always be polite and courteous, so he leads her to his quaint little kitchen and offers her tea.

"How is my brother doing?" She asks. "If I ask him he'll only tell me what I want to hear."

Bilbo hummed thoughtfully, passing her over her cup. "I think he's doing alright." Bilbo says, smiling. "He's been very nice to me, you know. I hope you're not too hard on him."

Dis laughs. "Why, it's my job to be hard on him! That's what little sisters are for, are they not?"

Bilbo laughs too. "I wouldn't know, I'm an only child."

"I have two older brothers." She says, sighing as if she were put out. "And my, they are a handful. I have to keep them in line, you know! They were so protective, you'd think I was made of glass."

Bilbo grins. "That sounds like Thorin."

Dis smiles, and takes a sip of her tea. "Again, I must apologize for bursting in on you. If Thorin would get his act together, then I would not have to come storming over like this. Honestly, he's a wreck sometimes." She chuckles.

Bilbo smiles. "Oh? He always appears quite held together, to me." He says.

"That's what he wants you to see." She winks. "He talks about you so much, I feel like I know more about you than I do him."

Bilbo flushes, eyes widening. "He talks about me?"

"Oh, all the time!" She exclaims. "I thought he would have, you know, _made a move_ by now, actually."

Bilbo splutters, choking on his tea as he plants the cup down on the bench. "P-pardon?"

Dis gives him an amused look. "Well, you have a thing for him too, don't you?"

"Too?" Bilbo repeats faintly. 

"Well, of course." Dis says, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "He adores you; won't shut up about how cute and little and charming you are, though I can see why now." She grins.

Bilbo flushes, pressing his palms to his cheeks. "He said that?"

"He most certainly did." Dis nods. "Several times in fact."

"Oh." Bilbo says. _"Oh."_

"So I take it he hasn't told you, then?" Dis asks, amused.

Bilbo nods, turning redder. 

"Well then, let's go find my pesky brother, hmm?"

Bilbo nods, though he was hardly listening, and allows himself to be led out of his apartment. As Dis opened his front door, Thorin appeared coming out of his own, across the hall. 

He looked up in surprise. "Dis?"

Dis grinned, and allowed Thorin to greet her with a confused hug. "Good morning, big brother."

"What were you doing in.... oh no, you didn't!"

"She did." Bilbo confirms with a nod of his hand, flushing under Thorin's intense stare as it jerks over to him. "Ah... I'm flattered?" He offers, fiddling with his fingers. 

Thorin turns to glare down at his sister. "I can't believe you!"

"Wait until Frerin hears!" Dis laughs.

Thorin turns red. "Oh no, you will not be telling him! Or I'll tell mother what you did today."

Dis pouts. "You're no fun." She says, punching him lightly on the arm. "I'll see you inside. Oh, and Bilbo, don't be afraid to join us! You're just the cutest thing I've seen this week."

Bilbo smiles, without any words to answer her (because being embarrassed left him rather tongue-tied most of the time). 

"So," Thorin rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly, "Good morning?"

"Good morning." Bilbo chuckles. "Um..."

"Want to do something sometime?" Thorin blurts. "I mean, with- with me. Sometime."

Bilbo smiles, his heart pounding. "Okay." He nods.

"Really?" Thorin asks, eyes wide. 

_His eyes, they're so blue..._ "If you don't mind." Bilbo chuckles. 

"Not at all!" Thorin exclaims, before grinning sheepishly. "I mean, I don't mind at all."

They both pretended they didn't hear Dis cheering on the other side of the door.

 

Of course, Bilbo's and Thorin's definition of "doing something sometime" meant something a lot different that people would expect. 

Their first date was in Thorin's apartment, where they ate a dinner that Bilbo cooked and watched a scary movie that was specifically designed to have one partner squeeze up against the other (though they were both so terrified it was more like they both tried to find comfort in the other, only to laugh when they realised they were both terrified).

Their second date was at a restaurant (rather cliché, but comfortable) and after their meal they walked down the street to watch a freelance band play in the town square, pressed close together in the crowd with their hands tentatively twined so as not to lose the other.

Their third date was in Bilbo's apartment, and he was trying to teach Thorin how to bake. By the end of it, there was so much flour on his floor and so much cupcake batter on his cheeks that Thorin couldn't help but kiss it all way.

They stopped counting the dates after that, because they all blurred into one and neither seemed to care as they were swept away into an unexpected adventure that terrified and thrilled Bilbo all at once.

And for the record, Frerin (Thorin's younger brother) never did find out about Thorin's nervousness in approaching Bilbo.

And that was _just_ the way Thorin liked it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really like apartment AU's, I'm finding~ ^q^


	11. Crying Clouds

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Little Bilbo has a nightmare.  
> Thorin is the only one that tells him it's okay to cry.

Bilbo gasped sharply, his little hands gripping his bed sheets tightly as he was shocked into consciousness. Tears stung his eyes, trailing down the sides of his face as he stared up at the ceiling, where little glow-in-the-dark stars and moons were scattered. 

A whimper burned around the thick lump in his throat. He wiggled on his sheets, biting his lip hard as he tried not to start crying; little boys weren't meant to cry, that's what everyone said to him when tears filled his eyes. Sweat made his pyjamas cling to his skin, and just the feeling of it made him want to cry out in frustration.

He hadn't had a nightmare in a long time. 

But now all the dark corners in his room seemed to be full of monsters and wide, red eyes and hands that just ached to grab onto him and pull him into the darkness.

Slowly, Bilbo pushed the covers off of his body. The cold air of the night offered little relief for his heated skin. He bit his lip harder, and glanced over the edge of the bed. He could almost see the claws reaching out from under it, and that fear- that riveting fear brought forward more tears he couldn't control. 

"Thorin." He called out weakly, glancing up towards the door. Thorin would help him, Thorin was always there to save him. "Thorin!"

He was being too quiet. Bilbo startled at the realisation, and pulled his knees to his chest as if someone were reaching for his ankles. He didn't want to wake Dis or Frerin or anyone else, because they would only laugh at him and tell him he was being silly.

But he wasn't. He _wasn't!_

Bilbo bit his lip harder, and unfurled his legs. He moved towards the edge of the bed, and as fast as he could, he dropped to the ground and ran out of his room.

Thorin's bedroom was just down the hallway, less than ten metres away, but it looked so _far._ Bilbo ran as fast as he could in the dark, stumbling over the long leg of his pyjama pants (because he was too small to fit in the standard sizes, and the pants had yet to be taken up).

With both hands, he hurriedly twisted the doorknob and shoved the door open. "Thorin?"

Faintly, in the dark, he saw Thorin shuffle on the bed.

"Thorin!" He cried, scrambling towards the bed as fast as he could, because the underside of Thorin's bed was just as terrifying as his own. 

Thorin bolted upright, his blue eyes flying open. "Bilbo?"

Bilbo hiccupped, impatiently waiting beside the bed with his arms raised. Thorin quickly reached down to lift him onto the mattress (Bilbo could reach it just fine himself, but if Thorin pulled him up then he had permission to be there, and Bilbo did not feel like he was intruding). 

Bilbo didn't hesitate to place himself on Thorin's lap, his thighs braced around Thorin's hips as he stuffed his face into the crook of Thorin's neck. "Thorin..." He whined. 

Thorin reached up to pat Bilbo's tangled curls gently. "Had another nightmare?"

Bilbo hiccups again. He didn't need to answer. 

"It's alright to cry." Thorin whispers, cuddling him close. He was only a few years older than Bilbo, but Bilbo thought he was smart enough and brave enough to be an adult.

"E-everyone says its bad." Bilbo whimpers. 

"Don't listen to them." Thorin says firmly, patting his head again. "They're wrong. There's nothing bad about crying."

"Why would they all say that then?"

Thorin pulls Bilbo away from him, and gently brushes away his tears. "Because they think crying makes you weak, when it really doesn't. People cry because they're happy or sad or scared and that's okay. Telling people not to cry is like telling clouds not to rain! You see?"

Bilbo nodded, though he really didn't understand - but he kind of did, too, because if someone told the clouds not to cry (rain) they wouldn't listen.

And Thorin was the smartest person Bilbo knew, so he had to be right.

"Good." Thorin smiles, and pulls Bilbo closer. "Want to talk about your nightmare?"

Bilbo's lips pull down, and he shakes his head as more tears pool in his eyes.

"Hey, it's okay, we can talk about it later, yeah?" Thorin says, nuzzling his nose against Bilbo's small, rounder one attentively. When Bilbo nods, Thorin grins down at him and squishes his cheeks together.

Bilbo giggles (though it was a bit difficult with his cheeks pushed together), because Thorin always knew that made him giggle and so he often did it to make Bilbo feel better (not to make him stop crying, because Thorin never made him stop crying by doing something like that). 

"Want to sleep here tonight?" Thorin offers, rubbing Bilbo's cheeks gently.

Bilbo closes one eye as Thorin's fingers skirt a little too close to it, but he nods, sniffling one last time. He allows himself to be moved to a lying down position, his head cushioned on Thorin's pillow as their knees bump together. Thorin joins his hand not comfortably pushed under his pillow with one of Bilbo's between their bodies, and smiles softly.

"Goodnight, Bilbo."

"'Night, Thorin." Bilbo whispers, moving just that little bit closer until he feels the faint heat coming off of Thorin's body.

A silence settles over the room. The dark corners don't seem quite so scary with Thorin holding his hand, and for a moment Bilbo thinks that Thorin has already fallen asleep, but he hadn't (and he wouldn't, not until he was sure Bilbo was sleeping peacefully, because he may have been brave but he worried over Bilbo like nobody else).

"Thorin?"

"Hmm?"

"Don't tell Frerin."

Thorin chuckles. "I won't tell Frerin."


	12. Burgled

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thorin needs Bilbo's advice on child-raising.

"Burglar, I need your help!"

Bilbo startles at the voice that rumbles behind him, almost hard enough to prick the bride right through the fabric she was currently wearing. 

"Burglar?" She whispers, looking stricken.

"Thorin." Bilbo huffs, turning his eyes up to the taller man that had so rudely burst into his tailoring shop. "How many time have I told you not to call me that?"

"More than a dozen by now, surely." Thorin nods - completely ignoring the purpose of Bilbo's questions, as per usual. "But that is not the point! I really need your help."

"What has happened now?" Bilbo asks, only after glancing at the bride to see if she were not put off by Thorin, which she wasn't, because Thorin was quite handsome and she may have been off the market but that wouldn't stop anyone from browsing. 

"It's Kili." Thorin lets out a strangled grunt, moving himself to sit on Bilbo's desk.

"Kili?"

"Yes, Kili." Thorin nods. "He says there is someone he _likes."_

Bilbo frowned, pausing in his work to glance at Thorin quizzically. "Yes? And?"

"Do you not see the problem?" Thorin cries, throwing his arms in the air. "There is someone he _likes!_ That means he has hormones, Burglar, _hormones!"_

"Yes, well that is to be expected." Bilbo rolls his eyes and turns back to the gown. "Would you turn around for me, dear?"

The girl giggled and did as she was told. Bilbo often had that affect on people - turning them giggly and cheerful during his sessions, because he really enjoyed his job and it always showed.

"Bilbo you are ignoring the problem here!" Thorin grumbles loudly. "If Kili is getting hormones, that means he's going through _puberty._ How do you raise a boy going through puberty?"

"Much like how you raised his older brother, I'd assume." Bilbo offers.

"But... it's _Kili."_

Bilbo hummed, gently moving his customer's arm up to get at the side of the dress where it needed to be taken in. "Did you ask him who he likes?"

"No."

"Should you?"

"Would he even tell me?" Thorin snorts, crossing his arms.

"Of course he would. He tells you everything." Bilbo reassures. "He probably just means he likes Fili, you know. He is still rather young, I don't think he's quite hit puberty yet."

"You think so?" Thorin asks, wide-eyed.

"Yes, Thorin."

"So I should just ask him?"

"Yes, Thorin."

"And you think he'd tell me, right?"

"Of course Thorin."

"You think he means Fili?"

"Yes, they're rather close, don't you think?"

"I suppose you're right." Thorin gives him a big grin, full of charm and delight like nothing Bilbo had ever seen before. Truly, Thorin Oakenshield was a _very_ handsome man. "Thanks, Burglar."

"I told you, don't call me that!" Bilbo calls after Thorin as the man practically floats from his store, utterly reassured and content. 

The customer laughs at his pout, and fans herself. "Now he is one attractive man." She says with a grin.

Bilbo chuckles. "Yes, I suppose he is."

"Who are Kili and Fili?"

"His nephews." Bilbo explains. "He's been raising them while their mother, his sister, takes care of family affairs back in their homeland."

"Oh, how sweet of him." She sighs. "How nice of you to help him. How do you know each other?"

"We met a few years ago when he came in to get his suit tailored for his sister's wedding." Bilbo answers. "We've been close ever since."

"Well you certainly seem very close." She says.

Bilbo smiles. "I should hope so."

"Why does he call you Burglar?" She asks curiously.

"He says I burgled his heart." Bilbo chuckles. 

"That's cute." She says. "Does he love you?"

Bilbo grins, and holds up his hand to wiggle his fingers. "I should certainly hope so. He is my husband after all!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's kinda of short today~  
> I have my last swimming carnival tomorrow, and year 12's theme this year is Horror (for Friday the 13th) so I've been busy preparing for that~
> 
> I'd also like to mention that requests are open for AU's, I'm running out ^^" I'm keeping them light leading up to Valentine's day, but I'm not sure what to actually do for the 14th. Suggestions~?
> 
> Also-- for March, I was thinking of going back to both AU and canon-verse stories, but mixing in obscure pairings too. How does that sound?


	13. Burgled Pt.II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kili thinks Uncle Thorin is upset with him, and runs to Bilbo for help.
> 
> Bilbo realises he might have burgled more than one heart.

"Uncle Bilbo!"

Bilbo let out a deep sigh, and lifted his foot off the sewing machine pedal. Really, he'd get no work done with the sons of Durin around - they simply couldn't keep their problems to themselves.

"Yes, Kili?"

The small, dark haired child barrelled into his sewing room, and once again Bilbo was startled when his golden-haired brother did not follow. Even though he'd known the brothers for such a long time, he still found it strange to see one without the other. Bilbo remembered how much difficulty he and Thorin ran into when they realised they would be separated during class time at school.

"Uncle Thorin is being ridiculous!" Kili cried, outraged, as he pulled himself up into Bilbo's lap so fast Bilbo hardly had time to brace him.

Bilbo cringed. Thorin disliked hearing Kili use works such as "ridiculous" because it sounded far too "adult" and "rebellious". Bilbo was afraid to admit that Kili had learned the word from him, because it was something he often muttered when fiddling with tricky little stitches. 

"How so?" He asks, absentmindedly straightening the school uniform Kili wore, which was far too adorable for Bilbo to resist. 

"He keeps saying _things!"_ Kili grumbled, reaching up his hands to grip fistfuls of Bilbo's curls.

"About what?"

"About Fili." Kili pushes his lip out into a pout (that Bilbo was adamant he learned from Thorin, damn it, because the child had seen how Bilbo simply could not resist such a look).

"What about Fili?" Bilbo asks gently.

Kili glanced behind him, as if he expected Thorin to come barging into the room, which Bilbo half-expected he would. Then, Kili leant forwards. "I told Uncle Thorin that I _like_ someone." Kili whispers, brown eyes wide in concentration and seriousness.

"And then what?" Bilbo gently prompts, acting as if he did not know this had already occurred.

"I didn't tell him who, though!" Kili says. "Because he didn't ask, you know. But then he did."

"And what did you say?"

Kili's pout intensifies, and Bilbo gently rubs his back in reassurance. "That I like Fili." Kili whispers, extra quiet.

Bilbo nodded in all seriousness. He'd known Kili would tell Thorin that, because Kili couldn't lie to his Uncle. "And how did Uncle Thorin react?"

Kili tightens his hands in Bilbo's hair, though his grip was not quite painful yet. "I don't know." Kili says quietly. "Uncle Thorin is being weird- ridiculous." He correctly corrects himself, nodding, oblivious to Bilbo cringing again.

"Do you want me to talk to him?" Bilbo asks.

"No!" Kili quickly shakes his head. "I don't want Uncle Thorin to be mad at me."

"And why would he be mad at you?" Bilbo asks, surprising. Thorin never got bad at his boys - Bilbo couldn't remember him even raising his voice, and Bilbo had to be the one to go through with punishments because Thorin couldn't stand to see them cry.

"Because I like Fili!" Kili cries. "And Uncle Thorin looked upset at me when I said that."

"Oh, Kili." Bilbo sighs, patting the child's back. "You must understand that your Uncle loves you more than anything else in the world."

"Not more than you." Kili mumbles, pursing his lips as he glances down to hide his tears.

Bilbo's heart lurched. "Kili, your Uncle loves us all." He says firmly, making Kili's watery eyes jerk up. "He loves us very, very much - do you understand?"

"But..."

"Kili, do you think I love you?" Bilbo asks.

Kili's mouth opens a little. "Yeah!"

"And do you think I love Fili?"

"Yeah."

"And do I love Uncle Thorin?"

"Yes."

"Does Uncle Thorin love us all, too?"

Kili nods several times. "Yeah."

"We're family." Bilbo says. "And family doesn't love one person more than the other. We love each other in different ways, is all."

"Different ways?"

Bilbo nods. "Yes. I love Uncle Thorin because I married him." Bilbo explains.

"And you kiss Uncle Thorin!" Kili adds. "On the lips."

Bilbo nods again. "Yes, you're right. And I love you and your brother because you are children that I am raising, and I have been privileged to see you grow up."

Kili nods.

"And the way you love Uncle Thorin-"

"And Uncle Bilbo." Kili cuts in, disgruntled.

Bilbo chuckles. "Yes, the way you love Uncle Thorin and I is a little different to the way you love Fili, isn't it? You love Fili because he is your brother and you are best friends, and you love Uncle Thorin and I because we take care of you and we raise you to know we love you unconditionally. No matter what."

Kili nods harder, offering Bilbo a small, understanding smile. 

"Am I right?" Bilbo asks.

"Yeah." Kili says.

"And am I right when I say Uncle Thorin will never, ever be mad with you?"

"Never?"

"Never!" Bilbo declares. "Am I right, Kili?"

"Yeah." Kili grins sheepishly, smoothing his fingers through Bilbo's curls.

"Well there you go." Bilbo says, poking Kili in the forehead gently. "Why don't you go find Uncle Thorin, hmm? Talk to him, and tell him how you feel."

"Will... will he listen?" 

"Yes, he most certainly will." Bilbo says. "Or else I'll be upset with him, how does that sound?"

Kili giggled, because he knew that Bilbo being upset with Thorin meant they got their way for a night. "Okay." He says.

Bilbo smiles, and sets Kili down on the ground. "Now off you go, go talk to Uncle Thorin. As long as you always talk with him, and tell him how you feel, he'll never turn you away."

"Okay." Kili grins, that trademark Durin grin that would have anyone trembling at the knees when he was grown. "Thanks, Uncle Bilbo."

Bilbo ruffled his hair affectionately. "Not a problem, my dear."

"I can always talk to you, too!" Kili says. "Because you always help."

"Of course I'll always help." Bilbo nodded, satisfied. "You can talk to me anytime you wish."

"Thanks." Kili grins, before turning on his heel and disappearing from the room just as fast as he appeared.

Bilbo smiles at his retreating figure, slumping back in his chair. He takes a moment to close his eyes, before standing and stretching. A knock makes him glance up.

"Uncle Bilbo...?" Fili asks, hiding half behind the doorframe. He was much taller than Kili, and older, so his uniform was neater, and he was somewhat more mature. Bilbo thought that Fili would make a great leader one day.

"Fili?"

Fili bites his lip, before running across the room to throw his arms around Bilbo's waist. He grips tighter when Bilbo stumbles a little, and rubs his head against Bilbo's chest. "Thank you." He whispers shakily.

Bilbo gently embraces Fili, ducking his head to drop a kiss against the boy's forehead. "Anytime." He replies.


	14. In A Rouse

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Love someone who loves you back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ❤ Happy Valentines Day! ❤

Bilbo hadn't ever really celebrated Valentines Day before. He'd never really had a reason to, mostly because he wasn't really good at socialising and he wasn't all that great to look at.

But now he had a reason to.

Thorin was somebody not many people could love. He was fiercely determined, and rather gruff, with a stern expression and a frosty exterior that took a lot of effort to thaw through.

At first, Bilbo had hardly known Thorin had taken an interest in him - why should he? Bilbo wasn't all that interestig, especially not in comparison to Thorin, and who was to say Thorin even preferred his gender?

In fact, Bilbo hadn't even thought Thorin liked him as a _friend._ They'd first met when Bilbo had stumbled into him, quite literally, at the park near their workplaces, and a pesky little acorn had fallen on Thorin's head only to bounce onto Bilbo's. It left Thorin grouchy, and Bilbo with a bump forming on his forehead as he'd pocketed the acorn in his haste to escape the man's wrath (only to find that they were now working together as representatives from their respective companies).

Thorin could be a very closed off person, and he was very intimidating to someone as small in stature as Bilbo. Thorin would hardly keep up a conversation with Bilbo, and often said things that he hadn't intended to come off as rude, but had.

Bilbo had been very startled when Thorin had started persistently standing beside him. It did not matter what Bilbo had done, or was in the process of doing, Thorin had just remained very close - a silent, ever present figure, to the point where Bilbo had only noticed him when he wasn't there.

Somewhere along the time Thorin had become impatient with Bilbo's obliviousness. Eventually, Bilbo had realised that Thorin's clinginess was a way of saying "I like you".

After that, when Thorin was reassured that yes, Bilbo does find him attractive, and yes, Bilbo is very much interested in him, they had become inseparable. Thorin's family had thought their relationship moved too fast after they realised they were interested in one another, but Bilbo didn't feel that way.

After all, they'd been "together" for so long before that, hadn't they? Thorin didn't stop floating around him, and Bilbo still missed his presence when he was otherwise busy. The only thing that had changed was now that Thorin could put his hands on Bilbo, he didn't miss an opportunity to so.

He never pushed Bilbo, though. That was probably one of the reasons why Bilbo never brushed him off or pushed him away, because Thorin knew his boundaries and respected them to the best of his abilities. He knew that Bilbo was still new to the idea of long-term relationships, because he'd never had one before, so he treated Bilbo in a way that was respectable and reassuring and a little adventurous, all at once. 

So Bilbo didn't mind if Thorin got a bit hands-y with him from time to time, or if he hovered a bit too much. Thorin was just as excited about a relationship as he was, and with that sort of feeling bounce back and forth between them, it was impossible to ignore.

Therefore, Bilbo thought that Valentines Day was something they should celebrate. They hadn't in the past years, not really - why lavish your partner more so on one day instead of them all? It didn't make sense.

But everything was so _romantic,_ Bilbo thought. There were red and pink hearts decorating all the stores they frequented, and the florists were overflowing with beautiful bouquets wrapped into plastic with little hearts and arrows on them. He'd caught Valentines fever - just the thought of showering Thorin in everything he could ever want for a day made Bilbo grin helplessly.

He just wanted to show Thorin how much he appreciated everything the man did for him. 

When he'd woken up in the morning, because he often woke first, he'd felt a nervous excitement coil in his stomach warmly. Thorin slept on soundly, his expression eased, and he would stay so until Bilbo left the bed.

Of course, that didn't stop Bilbo from trying to sneak away without waking Thorin. It was difficult to wiggle his way out of Thorin's arms, and he couldn't help but bite his lip in frustration. Eventually, though, he found himself free and holding his breath as he slowly backed from the room. 

He let out a deep breath and grinned as he made his way into the kitchen. The night before (while Thorin had been showing, of which had left him disgruntled because Bilbo had declined to join him) Bilbo had quickly prepared what he would make for Thorin in the morning. He had to be quick, otherwise Thorin would wake and the whole point of breakfast in bed would be ruined. 

Thorin had a sweet tooth almost as big as Bilbo's, so Bilbo knew that if he produced anything sweet Thorin could be persuaded to stay in bed for a little longer. With that in mind, he made pancakes with chocolate and strawberries - a favourite of both of theirs. Just to be sure, he also threw the cinnamon rolls he'd pre-made the previous night in the oven to slowly bake.

The house filled with the smell of sugar only a few minutes later, Bilbo grinned in satisfaction as he placed the cooked breakfast onto the good china and brewed a cup of coffee just the way Thorin liked it. 

He hurried back to the bedroom, holding the trays precariously, and wanted to let out the biggest sigh when he noticed Thorin's eyes, open and full of wakefulness, staring at him from the bed. 

"When did you wake?" Bilbo asks, gently sliding back into bed beside Thorin, waiting until the man sat up to carefully arrange the tray of food.

"When you left the bed." Thorin answered, his voice gruff with sleep in a way that made Bilbo shiver. 

Bilbo sighed, and allowed himself to be pulled against Thorin's side, tucked securely under his arm. He couldn't help but muffle a smile, though, because Thorin had painstakingly remained in bed without protesting when Bilbo left because he knew how much Bilbo was looking forward to Valentines day.

"This looks lovely, my dear." Thorin murmurs, pressing a lingering kiss to Bilbo's forehead. "You know you don't have to go to so much effort to please me."

Bilbo chuckles. "Oh, it was no effort at all." He replies, stubbornly turning his head for a kiss on the lips. "Cinnamon rolls would have been an effort."

Thorin raises a brow. "You didn't."

"I did." Bilbo grins. 

Thorin chuckles, a deep, reverberating sound that rumbles against his chest. "Oh, love, you are too good to me."

Bilbo preens under the praise, smiling into Thorin's chest. At the beginning of their relationship, he'd been horrendously hesitant to do anything intimate with Thorin; even sitting as they were, Bilbo could hardly stand it. He hated the fact that Thorin would be touching a body like his - a body that had extra padding around the thighs and waist, and could overall be described as "plump".

But Thorin had convinced him, over and over, than he loved Bilbo's body and that he loved Bilbo. He'd spent so long gripping Bilbo by the waist and slipping his hand down to touch Bilbo's thighs and running his fingers down Bilbo's spine, all the while telling Bilbo how he was always amazed by how soft his skin was and exactly how touching Bilbo made his body _react-_

Really, it could be quite inappropriate at times, but Bilbo didn't mind half the time. 

"I got you a gift." Bilbo says, licking his lips in an attempt to clear away the stickiness that had gathered there, because Thorin couldn't help but share everything (even though Bilbo insisted that he was not hungry, and he did not, in fact, need Thorin's tongue shoved down his throat to properly taste it).

"Bilbo-" Thorin starts, his brows pulling together.

"Wait." Bilbo says, smiling sheepishly. "I know we don't usually celebrate this day, so I don't expect you to have gotten me anything, but I felt like today was appropriate to give this to you."

"Actually, I do have a gift for you." Thorin murmurs. "Of sorts."

Bilbo blinks, and flushes delightfully. While he usually preferred to be the gift-giver, receiving gifts from Thorin always gave him a feeling of excitement. 

"Shall I go first?" Thorin says, smiling down at Bilbo as he moves the tray from the bed.

Bilbo nods, nervously gripping the bed sheets as he watches Thorin stretch towards the bedside table and pull something out of the drawer. Thorin turns back to him, and holds out his hand.

Resting in his palm is a small, velvet box.

Bilbo's eyes widen and gloss over as he presses his fingertips to his lips in shock. His heart fluttered nervously away in his chest, and for a moment he thought it might even stop beating. His eyes flicker up to Thorin's.

Thorin smiles. "Go on." He coaxes. 

Bilbo tentatively reaches out, his fingers twitching, and after a hesitant moment he gently lifts the box from Thorin's palm. He hardly wished to open it; his hands were shaking too much, but then Thorin gently reached out to cup his cheek and Bilbo felt his heart settle, and he finally opened the box.

Nestled inside was a ring.

Tears swam in his eyes. Thorin stroked his cheek with his thumb gently, and Bilbo knew that action was _the_ question (because Thorin spoke more in actions than words) and he couldn't help but nod helplessly. 

Thorin took the ring from him, and Bilbo watched, enraptured, as Thorin took his left hand and slid it onto his fourth finger. It was a perfect fit.

"It's engraved." Thorin murmurs around a smile he muffles in Bilbo's messy curls. "You can read what it says, later."

Bilbo chuckles. Thorin was too embarrassed to see Bilbo read it now - which was understandable, considering the situation, and considering Thorin's potent indifference and subsequent embarrassment at being overly romantic. 

"My gift hardly seems all that great now." Bilbo laughs, wiping at his eyes as he nuzzles into the hand Thorin still held against his cheek. 

"Anything you give me is bound to become one of my greatest treasures." Thorin replies. "Will you show me?"

"Alright, alright." Bilbo chuckles. Many people would not have taken Thorin's current attitude as eagerness, but Bilbo could tell that that was exactly what it was. 

He turns and reaches into his own bedside table, where he'd hidden a small, perfectly wrapped gift complete with a small bow on top.

"It's not much." He says carefully, handing the box over to Thorin. "Especially not after your gift."

Thorin takes a moment to run his thumb over the band sitting on Bilbo's finger, obviously pleased to see his claim there for all to notice, before taking the gift and carefully unwrapping it. He sticks the bow on Bilbo's head, ignoring his eye roll, before opening the box.

Inside, was an acorn.

"Is this...?" Thorin trails off, eyebrows going up in surprise.

Bilbo smiles tentatively. "Like I said, it's not much- mnf!" His sentence is cut off when Thorin swoops down, stealing his words in a ravishing kiss that leaves his lips wet and swollen.

"I can't believe you kept this, all this time." Thorin murmurs, his breath huffing across Bilbo's cheeks warmly. 

"Hmm?" Bilbo mumbles, dazed. "Oh yes, the acorn- of course I kept it. It did bring us together, after all. Somewhat." He chuckles, reaching up a hand to rub at his forehead reminiscently.

Thorin grins, that charming, breath-taking grin that makes a deep part of Bilbo ache to be filled. "I cannot think of a more fitting gift, my love. There is no conceivable way in which this does not please me immensely. I can't think of anything better you could have possibly given me."

Bilbo flushed. "I can think of one thing..." He murmurs, glancing up at Thorin out from under eyelashes.

Thorin catches on startlingly quick - his pupils dilute, and after taking a moment to gently place the acorn on the bedside table his hands return to grip Bilbo by the hips punishingly hard. 

"You, my little minx," Thorin growls, rolling Bilbo onto his back so that he could press every inch of himself against him, "Might just be right."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It took me a while to figure out what to do for Valentine's Day (because I've never celebrated it), and I thought, what better time for something cheesy than the 14th of Feb? So, a classic proposal with a twist is what happened ^.^
> 
> Considering I live a day ahead of most people, and tomorrow will be today, the 14th, for many people, I was thinking of writing a little something else too? A separate one-shot from this of course, something I haven't tried before~  
> So keep an eye out for that, if it ever comes to fruition ^^"


	15. Photograph

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thorin changes his wallpaper.

Thorin sighed in content as he rested back against Bilbo's softness. Everything about his little lover was just _comfortable;_ it was the only way to explain it. 

"What are you doing?" He asks as he cracks open a blue eye to peer up at the curly-haired man sitting up behind him.

Bilbo grinned, swiping a hand up to push a stray strand of hair behind his ear. "Nothing in particular, love." He reassures.

Thorin chuckled, because it was so easy to see through Bilbo's little white lie as he closed his eyes again. 

It was at times like this that Thorin was truly grateful for everything he had in his life. Spending time with his husband on a calm, Sunday afternoon was a time he cherished very dearly, and a time he would hold very close in his heart for as long as he lived.

Bilbo loved to visit the park they were in, too. It was within walking distance from their house, so it was a regular occurrence that they visited it. They'd sit together under the shade a tall, great oak tree with a clear view of the duck pond and, just beyond the water, the beautifully maintained gardens. Bilbo truly belonged out in the midst of nature - he kept their garden at home so spectacularly that Thorin always stopped to admire it when he arrived home in the evenings.

"There." Bilbo declared, gently running his fingers through the parts of Thorin's hair he had been fiddling with. "All done."

Thorin chuckled again. "And what exactly have you done to me, love?"

Bilbo gave him that heart-stopping grin he had, and reached for his phone. "Take a photo with me." He says.

Thorin sits up a little, but remains resting against Bilbo. The smaller man reaches his arm around Thorin's chest, pressing their cheeks together, before he holds up his phone and takes a photo. 

Thorin reaches for the phone and what he sees makes him smile, his heart so full it felt like it would burst.

"I'm sending myself this." He tells Bilbo, who only hums in reply as he watched a family of ducks waddle towards the pond, absentmindedly running his hands down Thorin's strong arms. It was a comforting gesture. 

Thorin smiled to himself as he received the picture on his own phone. He toys with it for a moment, before grinning in satisfaction.

"What did you do with it?" Bilbo asks curiously, pressing his lips to the top of Thorin's head. 

"Put it as my wallpaper." He replies smugly. 

Bilbo tilts his head back and laughs, lightly smacking Thorin on the shoulder. "You will be the death of me, one day, Mister Oakenshield."

Thorin grinned, and held up his phone to show Bilbo.

There, staring back, was a picture of Bilbo holding onto Thorin, of whom was wearing a crown made of delicately woven flowers nestled on his head.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's short, today~  
> I spent the majority of my time attempting to write smut, which is now posted~ I don't think I have a talent for it, haha ^^"


	16. Happy Synthesizer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bilbo is a stay-at-home pseudo parent. 
> 
> (For all intents and purposes, he was the real deal).

"Uncle Bilbo, what is that?"

"Hmm?" Bilbo looks up from where he is rhythmically chopping strawberries and mangos into chewable pieces. "What is what, Kili?"

Kili lets out a confused pout, frowning as he tugs on the leg of Bilbo's pants. "That!"

"This?" Bilbo holds up the egg-shaped timer he kept on the bench.

Kili nods.

"It's a timer." Bilbo says, crouching down to show Kili. "You twist the top to the right time you want, and when that time is up it dings."

Kili's eyes widen. "Really?"

Bilbo chuckles, and nods. "Yes."

"And what about that?" Kili points up at another object on the bench.

"That's a thermometer." Bilbo explains. "I use it to measure the temperature of the things I cook so that I know it's been heated properly."

"Oooh." Kili coos, eyes widening. "And what about that?"

"That is a peach." Bilbo laughs. Be bends to pick up the young boy, holding him on his hip as Kili grins and surveys the bench from his new vantage point.

"It looks like a butt." He giggles.

"Well I suppose it does. It tastes nice, though." Bilbo says.

"Really?"

"Yes." Bilbo confirms with a nod of his head, nuzzling Kili's cheek gently. "Would you like to try some?"

"Yeah!" Kili says.

"Then what do you say?" Bilbo coaxes gently.

"Yes please." Kili recites, gripping a fistful of Bilbo's hair in excitement. 

"Good boy." Bilbo praises proudly, rewarding Kili with a big, smacking kiss to his chubby little cheek, making the small child squeal in joy. "Why don't you go set the table, hmm? Your brother should be home soon."

Kili's eyes widen. "Okay!"

Bilbo sets him back on the ground gently, and watches as he toddles off before turning back to his fruits. He absently starts cutting up peaches, glad that Kili was finally willing to try new things without Fili trying them first.

He listens as Kili sets the table with the little coloured plastic forks that he and his brother loved, as well as the regular ones for Bilbo and Thorin. He couldn't help but grin, because Kili was such a sweet little boy. 

A few moments later he hears Thorin's car pull up into the driveway, and listens attentively as Kili squeals and flies down the hallway (just in case he should so happen to trip and need Bilbo's assistance). 

"Fili!" Kili cries out happily.

Bilbo smiles. Their attachment was so heart-warming, Bilbo hoped desperately that it continued into their adolescence and adulthood. He didn't think he could bear it if they did not remain as close as they were. 

Thorin enters the kitchen a moment later, placing Fili's school bag down on the kitchen stool before moving to slip his arm around Bilbo's waist. His hand slips under Bilbo's apron to rub at his stomach gently. "Good afternoon, my love."

"Hello, Thorin." Bilbo turns his head back to place a gentle kiss on Thorin's lips. "How was your day?"

"Tiring." Thorin sighs, nuzzling his nose against the shell of Bilbo's ear.

Bilbo frowns, and rubs Thorin's back gently.

"Oh, do not give me that look, my dear." Thorin kisses him softly again. "It is nothing I cannot handle."

Bilbo sighed, returning the kiss. He worked from home as a writer, and as such his pay was sporadic and infrequent. He'd offered multiple times to go out and find work for a more normal schedule, but Thorin strictly refused - he knew how much Bilbo loved to be a stay-at-home parent, to look after little Kili and Fili and to make sure the household ran smoothly.

In return, Bilbo did his best to make their lives comfortable - he cooked (because he liked to) and often he took on part of Thorin's chore load because the man seemed so tired, and he cared for the boys when Thorin did not get off work early enough to do so himself. 

"What would you like for dinner tonight?" Bilbo asks, placing a lingering kiss on Thorin's unshaven cheek before turning back to the meal he was preparing. 

"Can we have fish?" Thorin asks pleadingly.

Bilbo chuckles, and nods. "Whatever you wish." He says. It took him a little extra effort to cook it, so Thorin hardly ever asked for it, but Bilbo made it as often as he could. He only wished to please Thorin, and if in doing so he went through means of pleasing Thorin's stomach, then so be it.

Besides, he really did love cooking anyway.

"Uncle! The table is ready!" Kili called, somewhat impatiently.

Bilbo laughed quietly. "It seems that your boys are hungry." He says, moving all the sliced fruit into a bowl. 

"They're yours too." Thorin answers, grinning at the delighted look that comes to Bilbo's face. 

Kili and Fili were already seated at their dining tale when Bilbo walked in with Thorin trailing behind him. Bilbo smiled, because Kili couldn't get into the chairs by himself so Fili must have helped him.

"How was school?" Bilbo asks Fili, dropping a kiss onto the blonde's hair as he scoops a portion of fruit onto his plate. 

"Good!" Fili grins, nuzzling into the hand that Thorin chucks under his cheek at his brash reply. "We learned to spell hard words today!"

"Did you now?" Bilbo asks, amused, as he serves Kili and then Thorin, the latter of whom pulls him down into his seat with a firm arm around his waist. "Did you do well?"

"Yeah!" Fili says. "I spelled the most correct!"

"Good job." Bilbo grins proudly, his smile only matched by the one Fili shoots him in return. 

Thorin squeezes his waist, giving him a charming smile. When they'd first taken the boys in, Fili had hardly known how to walk and Kili had only been a little babe. Bilbo had fretted for weeks that they wouldn't like him, that they wouldn't be able to settle and live happy lives without their mother or a feminine presence.

Of course, Thorin had protested that every time, and he'd been correct.

The boys _loved_ Bilbo, and Thorin loved to see it. He felt like they were a proper family in those times (not that they weren't generally) and every time he saw his nephews and his husband interact so lovingly his heart filled with uncontainable happiness.

"Do you like the peaches?" Bilbo asks Kili. 

Kili gives him a wide grin. "Yeah! They taste good, like you said!"

"Like I said." Bilbo replies.

"Fili, you try!" Kili holds up his fork, his chubby little arm shaking with the effort. 

Fili leans forwards and bites the piece of peach off without complaint, and smiles at his little brother. "It's good."

"I know right!"

Thorin squeezes Bilbo's waist, drawing his attention. "He tried them himself?"

Bilbo nods, humming. "He saw them on the bench, so I told him they were nice and asked if he wanted to try them."

Thorin grins, and nuzzle Bilbo's cheek. "How amazing, he tried something on his own. Though I think you had a hand in that."

"How so?" Bilbo asks curiously.

"If you hadn't had said they were nice, he likely wouldn't have tried them." Thorin says. "I'm sure of it."

Bilbo swatted his shoulder gently, flushing. "You flatter me."

"I speak only the truth." Thorin says, giving him a charming grin so handsome Bilbo thought he'd swoon. "You are good for them, Bilbo. You are good for us all."

Bilbo smiled, resting his cheek on Thorin's shoulder. "I'm glad you allowed me to be a part of your family." He says quietly. "I can't thank you enough. I've never been this happy before."

Thorin rubs his hips soothingly. "It is an honour to have you with us." Thorin replies, kissing him gently, ignoring the outraged cries from the boys. 

"Uncle Thorin," Kili cries. "That's not fair!"

He clambers out of his seat and hastily toddlers over, lifting his arms in a demand to be picked up. Bilbo, unable to resist those big, chocolaty eyes staring up at him, heaves the child onto his lap. 

Kili, in a show against Thorin, leads forwards and kisses Bilbo stickily on the lips. The child turns to Thorin grinning smugly. 

"Me too!" Fili cries, appearing at Bilbo's side. "Uncle, me too!"

Bilbo's heart melts as Fili stands on his toes to kiss him as well. He would do anything for these children, _anything._ He didn't think he could live without them.

Thorin laughed, raising an eyebrow at his nephews. "Do I have to fight to reclaim _my_ husband?"

"He's _ours_ now!" Fili claims, wrapping his arms around one of Bilbo's. 

"Is that so?" Thorin says with a little growl, lunging forwards to dig his fingers into Kili's side, making him screech with laughter. "I will not give up my treasure without a fight!"

"Uncle Bilbo is our treasure!" Fili giggles, clambering into the space remaining on Bilbo's lap (which, with Kili also there, was not much, but just enough). "We love him more!"

Bilbo smiled, watching Thorin interact with his nephews fondly.

_Really, he'd do anything for them all._


	17. Collateral Damage

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bilbo has a timer ticking down on his wrist.  
> This is the day he meets his soul mate.

Bilbo's timer was ticking down faster and faster. He often watched it, those little black numbers printed so strictly and neatly down his arm. They counted down to the day he would finally meet his soul mate, the person he would spend the rest of his life with (if all went right, that is).

It was something he'd waited quite a while for. People met their other halves at all ages, because all it took was that one meeting - that one instant of contact - eyes meeting across the room, hands brushing down a crowded street, a worded question hesitantly spoken across a counter...

It truly was romantic, Bilbo thought, as he stared down at the numbers printed into his skin. 

00:32:17

_Only half an hour..._

He wondered where it would happen. Bilbo knew that it would be pointless if he waited in the same spot for the timer to go down, or if he went looking for someone with the same time as him. It didn't work like that. It was best for him to try and ignore it, and go about his schedule.

Today was his day off. His work schedule was rather rigorous, and so he tended to pack everything he needed to do in the days where no deadlines pestered him. Today he had to get measured for his suit, required for his second-cousin's wedding, then he had to go to the bank to file some routine paperwork, then he had to go grocery shopping and he wanted to visit the local bookstore, as well...

He sighed wistfully, and stepped off the train when the doors finally hissed open. He never drove to the city, it was too crowded and he disliked driving in the first place anyway, so taking public transport was easier.

The tailors' was close to the station, only a five minute walk.

00:24:59

The tailor was a nice woman with long, auburn hair and playful eyes. She did marvellous work, really, and Bilbo greatly admired her eye for detail. She'd begun adjusting his suit rather swiftly after their first appointment. It only took her a few minutes to take down his last measurements, carefully scribbling them down in her remarkably swirly handwriting.

"You can come and pick it up at the end of the day, if you wish." She tells him, smiling. She was at least a head taller than him, but Bilbo never felt as though she was looking down on him. 

"Thank you, I'll do just that if you don't mind." Bilbo replied, straightening his sweater self-consciously. 

"It's not a problem." She says, lifting a delicate hand in a wave as he exited her store and continued his way down the street.

The bank was next on his list, and thankfully only a short distance down the street. He waited at the lights a little impatiently, hoping that the bank was not too crowded today. He didn't wish to be held up for long - _I really want to go to the bookstore,_ he admitted with a little laugh to himself.

00:13:51

The bank wasn't too crowded, Bilbo was pleased to find. It smelt faintly of chemicals and cleanliness when he entered, as if somebody had only just cleaned the floors earlier that morning. The air was crisp and cool, and he breathed a sigh of relief, because it was getting muggy outside. 

He had taken a seat on one of the unfortunately lumpy chairs in the waiting section when the sound of guns being fired pierced the air.

Bilbo jumped as men wearing nothing but black stormed the bank, wearing hideous masks over their faces with large guns pointed towards the ceiling. The woman seated behind him screamed.

"Get on the ground! Now!"

Bilbo rushed to comply, as did the people around him. Tears burned the backs of his eyes as he watched everybody in the bank form a circle in the middle of the floor. A man with youthful looks moved a little slow, and Bilbo's small cry was lost in the collective scream of the group as one terrorist pointed a smaller, black gun and shot the man in the arm.

Bilbo felt sick. Blood poured out of the man's wound, spilling between his fingers as a taller man with darker hair grabbed him and hauled him down onto the ground.

00:03:21

Bilbo scratched at his arm, huddling down into himself as noises buzzed through his ears, muffled as though he were hearing them over a large distance. The criminals - he didn't know how many there were, too many for him to see properly - were demanding that money be handed over, and a female teller was sobbing as she tried to fill their cases as fast as she could. 

The sound of sirens pierced the air.

One of the robbers swore.

Thick fingers twisted into Bilbo's hair and yanked him upright. He cried out in pain, coughing when an arm wound around his neck to pin him in place. The cold barrel of a gun pressed against his temple.

"We've got hostages!" The man gripping him yelled through his mask. "Come in here and I'll shoot this kid in the head!"

Bilbo whimpered, clawing at the arm around his throat. His sleeves slipped down, exposing his arms.

00:01:43

"Oh? What is this?" The man whispered in his ear, moving the gun to nudge the edge of his sleeve further down. Bilbo cried out, trying to cringe away, but the arm around his shoulder pressed further into his neck.

_His breath... it's disgusting!_

"Only a minute, huh?" The man laughed (as if this situation were truly funny), and heaved Bilbo up further. "Have a look around, kid. You've just made my day."

"Put him down!" A man - the security guard, Bilbo faintly realised - lunged to his feet. The criminal twisted around and shot him, straight through the chest, and Bilbo screamed. Blood splattered the floor, and the security guard staggered, falling back.

_Please don't be dead, please don't be dead..._

He had never seen a dead body.

Bilbo's heart lurched, and he squeezed his eyes shut. His soul mate had to be in the room. 

"Open your eyes and look!" The man snarled, jerking up his arm hard enough to snap Bilbo's head back painfully.

Bilbo cracked open his eyes. They swum with tears that started to freely flow down his cheeks, leaving cold tracks in their wake. He looked around the room, knowing just how long he had left.

The faces all seemed inconsequential. They were nameless people with faces he wouldn't have even looked at if this day had not turned out as it had. Nobody stood out, nobody caught his attention...

Until Bilbo saw him.

It was the man who was helping the boy who got shot - with a strong nose, sharp blue eyes and dark hair, he was beautiful.

00:00:00

Bilbo smiled a weak, watery smile.

The man's stern expression cracked.

"Go on, tell him your name."

Bilbo pursed his lips to fight off a hiccup. The gun pressed harder into his head, and he flinched as he felt the safety click off. 

"Tell him!" The man snarled in his ear.

"B-Bilbo." He croaked.

"You." The man turned his head towards the blue-eyed male. 

"My name is Thorin." He answered calmly, his grip tightening on his younger companion. Bilbo could see a faint resemblance in their faces - the shape of their eyes, the colour of their hair... they must have been related, somehow. 

They looked like good people.

Bilbo forced another smile, and hoped it didn't look like a grimace. Thorin was a good, strong name. It sounded nice.

Outside, Bilbo heard the police doing _something_ \- he didn't know what, but it couldn't have been good for him, not in this situation.

"Say goodbye, kid." The man grinned sadistically as he hooked his finger over the trigger.

Thorin's eyes widened, a look of desperation coming to his face. He lurched upright, and for a moment the sickening thought of him getting shot filled Bilbo. He tried to smile - he needed to reassure his soul mate that it would be fine, that the police would come in and save them, that nobody would get shot and he'd go to the bookstore and they'd talk over coffee and-

_Bang!_


	18. Insatiable

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bilbo, an angel, watches a family of demons from his cloud.

Bilbo frowned as he watched the demons on earth chase around a small cluster of hares. The poor things were terrified of the brothers terrorizing them, and the only reason Bilbo didn't step in was because he knew the demons wouldn't kill them. 

He sighed, and kicked his feet. A plume of clouds went rolling, detaching from his seat, and he let out a rather high-pitched yelp as his little wings fluttered to keep him upright and vertical. 

"Goodness me." He sighed, stretching. Absentmindedly he drifted to a lower patch of clouds, careful not to let the demons recognise his presence, to keep a closer eye on the hares. He'd hate for them to be overexerted - hares, amongst other gentle-creatures of the forest, were rather prone to stress-induced deaths (which was rather easy for a demon to induce). 

Bilbo perked up a little as a taller, stronger demon stormed into the clearing to tell off the other two. They cowered under his dark, quelling gaze, and Bilbo couldn't help but laugh to himself.

Thorin Oakenshield had that effect on people, not only his little nephews. 

"Do you think it is smart to chase around woodland creatures in the open like this?" Thorin scolds. "Anyone could have come and killed you. _Both_ of you."

"But Uncle-" Kili, the younger of the two, started.

"No." Thorin cut off. "You are lucky Bilbo has been watching you, or else the Orcs would have come to grab you. You know what they'd do to your horns, Kili."

"Uncle Bilbo is here?" Fili's head jerked up, bright eyes searching. "Where?"

Bilbo wanted to sigh. Of course Thorin would have sensed his presence, the stubborn demon always did. Bilbo didn't understand it - no other demon would have ever been able to sense him from this distance. That demon was an anomaly. 

Thorin's stormy blue eyes turn up to him - Bilbo could basically feel the command in them, and this time he can't suppress his sigh.

"I wasn't watching over your nephews." Bilbo informs Thorin as he slowly sinks towards the ground, unable to resist obeying Thorin's silent demands. "I was merely watching over the hares, to ensure they did not perish at an untimely pace."

Thorin smirks at him, his dark wings flaring a little. They were rather broad, even for a demon, and very muscled. _Show-off._ "Whatever you say, my little bird."

"I am no bird." Bilbo bristles, huffing. His wings were smaller, and thinner, with pure white feathers that he meticulously groomed. They were not built for strength and durability like a demon's, but rather they were built for quick bursts of flight and long-term hovering, ideal for angels.

Thorin's returning grin made Bilbo's stomach heat up.

Alright, so maybe he had been watching out for the little demons, but he'd never admit that to Thorin.

"Uncle Bilbo!" Kili grinned cheekily, pouncing. Bilbo screeched in shock when the demon collided with him, sending them both tumbling to the ground. 

"How nice of you, to look out for us!" Fili exclaimed, hauling both Bilbo and Kili back upright. "I don't know why you don't just move in with Uncle and us, wouldn't that be great?"

Bilbo flushed, letting out an indignant sound. "Now listen here, young man, that is very inappropriate to say!"

Fili cackles, before his attention is diverted to his brother, of whom was flashing his wings teasingly.

Bilbo sighed (yet again) as the two began to wrestle rather violently with one another, though he supposed that to demons they were being gentle. He'd never properly understand their ways, but he still thought they were good people. Bilbo was one of only a handful few angels who interacted freely with demons, and he was looked down upon for doing so, but they'd grown on him since their first meeting.

"Hello again, Bilbo." Thorin draped himself across Bilbo's shoulders, startling the smaller angel. "If you wanted to check on them, you did not have to hide in your clouds. You know they love you."

Bilbo rolled his eyes. "I told you, I was watching the hares."

Thorin grinned, showing off his teeth, and nosed at Bilbo's cheek.

Having such a fearsome warrior so close to him still send Bilbo's heart aflutter, but it was no long in fear - no, it was at the sense of _adventure_ Thorin provoked, something that always drew him back to the alluring demon.

"Do your wings need grooming again?" Thorin whispers into his ear.

Bilbo flushed all the way up to the tips of his pointed ears. Touching someone's wings was an extremely intimate thing, and could often be erogenous - and Thorin knew that.

Bilbo coughed, and risked a glance at Thorin's nephews. He was relieved to see they had not heard their Uncle say such a thing, and were instead completely distracted by chasing around the hares, yet again.

Bilbo turned to glance up at Thorin tentatively. "If- if you want, I mean-"

"Oh, I want to." Thorin purred, pressing up flush against Bilbo's back. 

Really, demons could be insatiable.


	19. Insatiable Pt.II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bilbo meets other demons.
> 
> They grow to like him... eventually.

"Thorin, I really don't believe this is a good idea-"

"Nonsense." Thorin reassures, patting Bilbo on the shoulder strongly. "My kin will not harm you. Fili and Kili have not harmed you."

Bilbo huffs, puffing out his cheeks. "Your nephews aren't exactly- they aren't- well." Bilbo rolled a hand flippantly.

"Uncle Bilbo, how cruel!" Kili cries indignantly, darting forwards to pull the angel from Thorin's grip. "How could you say such a thing? We can be very devilish, you know!"

Bilbo struggled in his grip, kicking his feet. Damn them all for being taller than him. "Now see here, you put me down right now! This is very inappropriate. And, if I must say, you and your brother aren't very devilish at all!"

"Oh, is that so?" Fili grinned, sidling up to them. "I think we can change your mind, Uncle Bilbo."

Bilbo squawked, batting at the demons. Arms wrapped around his waist, and hauled him out of Kili's grip. The young demon whined, flaring his wings childishly, pouting in a rather upset manner until Fili reached up to stoke his fingers along the curve of Kili's horns. Kili was quite quickly distracted, and Bilbo wanted to sigh.

_Demons._

"Now come along." Thorin grins, nudging Bilbo forward. "I'm sure the company will take to you well."

Bilbo frowned, wringing his hands nervously. "I'm not sure this will be all right." He says. "You know how much demons dislike my kind. What if they think I've been corrupting you?"

Thorin shook his head. "It would only ever be the other way around, my dear."

"Thorin..."

"It will be alright." Thorin says firmly. "Just be yourself, and they will adore you."

Bilbo sucks in a deep breath, and lets it out slowly. "Alright, alright. Let's get this over with, then."

Thorin gave him a proud look, and continued leading him through the caves. Demons didn't like living in the sunlight like angels - at least, not Thorin's type of demon. They preferred to live in the hearts of mountains, guarding their treasures and jewels much like dragons used to when they roamed the earth. 

"Here we are." Thorin lead him to a wide set of doors, and pushed them open with a single arm (an obvious display of strength for Bilbo, something he did on instinct now, but Bilbo still thought it endearing). "In you go."

Bilbo smiled nervously once more, and stepped into the large room. Almost immediately all he could sense and smell was the scent of demons, so many of them that at first he wasn't even sure how many there were. 

And boy, they did not seem happy to see him.

Bilbo stiffened, overwhelmed by the intimidating aura that filled the room like a hot blast of air. He stepped back, drawing his wings in ready to spread in flight. 

Thorin entered the room and pressed against his back, blocking his exit route. For a brief moment, fear shot through Bilbo like ice because he was suddenly _trapped-_ but Thorin would not hurt him, or allow him to be hurt, and so his fear was quickly quelled. 

Bilbo resisted a shiver as Thorin let out a rumbling growl - it was a threatening, dominating sound that was clearly not directed at him. He pressed back against Thorin, reassured when one of those arms slid around his front firmly.

"What is one of those _things_ doing in here?" One of the demons growled, standing. If possible, he was even larger than Thorin, and had an expression even more intimidating. 

Thorin spat something back in the language he spoke, Khuzdul, that had the other demons silenced. Their eyes moved from Thorin, then to Bilbo, and back to Thorin, before many relaxed. 

"If that is so, then he is welcome here." One of the older demons spoke. He looked rather wise, Bilbo thought. "You're just in time for dinner."

Thorin nodded wordlessly, and led Bilbo to the long table they were all seated around. Kili and Fili bustled in behind them, taking their respective seats near the head of the table. Bilbo was placed in a seat across from them, with an empty space on one side and Thorin on the other.

He was somewhat proud to admit the dinner provided by the demons flowed relatively smoothly after that. They weren't so hard to get along with once they stopped glaring and actually included him in conversations. 

In fact, Bilbo rather enjoyed their company.

"Mister Bilbo?" A timid voice asked.

Bilbo blinked owlishly at the youngest demon - even younger than Kili - and smile a little. "Yes, Ori?"

"Can I- I mean, if it is alright with you, of course, I don't want to make you uncomfortable- can I possible see your wings?" He asks, flushing.

Bilbo started, not expecting the question. He supposed that demons would be curious about an angel - it was only common sense, considering their kind hardly ever interacted and their wings were built rather differently. 

After a glance at Thorin, who nodded once, Bilbo turned back to Ori, and nodded too. He let his wings spread in a leisurely stretch, and sighed. They felt cramped from being stiff so long.

Ori's eyes widened. Many of the other demons were looking at him now.

"I know they're not much like a demon's, but they're good for angels." Bilbo says, twisting them upright into a more comfortable position. "Small, but durable." 

"They're so _white."_ Ori breathes, awed.

Bilbo chuckles. "Well, they certainly couldn't be any other colour." He says teasingly. "They'd stand out among the clouds too much."

"But what about your clothes? They're coloured."

"Yes, well when we reach a level where the light is strongest the colours in our clothing are washed out. Essentially, they're bleached, but its not a permanent thing." Bilbo explains. "The rest of us stays normal coloured though, because as long as most of our skin is covered in clothing then a spot of coloured curls here and there can't be seen."

Ori nods, soaking up his words. Bilbo could see the demon's wings fluttering against his back in excitement. "Can angels hover for a long time?"

"Oh yes, quite a while." Bilbo nods. "For several hours, quite easily. More than a twelve starts to bring on a little fatigue, though."

"Twelve hours?" Bofur asks, incredulous.

Bilbo hummed. "Well, twelve hours is when I start to get tired." He laughed bashfully. "Why, my neighbour Hamfest can however for fourteen! And my mother was still going strong at sixteen and three-quarters, though she was a bit of an anomaly."

The demons were looking at him rather strangely, and Bilbo realised that demons did not in fact hover like angels did, and laughed a little again.

"I take it that this sounds strange to you." He chuckles. "But I assure you, hovering is quite normal where I come from! Our wing bones are lighter than yours - in fact, they're hollow for the better part of our lives, so long-term hovering is second nature."

"Remarkable." Oin murmurs, a hand on his chin. He was the healer, Bilbo had come to know. "Your wing bones are hollow?"

Bilbo nods. "We're born with solid wings, as babies do not need to hover, you know? As we grow they expand and become hollow, then as we age they turn solid and we return to where we came."

Oin nods, mulling over his words. The birth and death of angels was always a very sacred thing, and no one but angels really knew where they went after death - it wasn't a secret Bilbo would ever share.

Bilbo spent quite a while talking with the demons, and eventually Thorin joined in the conversation, his arm settled around Bilbo's waist, under the point where his wings joined to his back.

By the time the moon was very high in the sky, Bilbo's energy was waning. He yawned frequently, his wings shuddering, and pressed into Thorin's side insistently. 

"I think it is time you returned to your home." Thorin murmured into his hair.

"Bilbo does not remain on the ground with you?" Dori asks, surprised.

"It would be wrong to keep an angel from his clouds." Thorin says, eyes hooded.

"And it is wrong to keep a demon from his mountain." Bilbo reminds him quietly.

The demons gave him a collective look that clearly told him that he had said the right thing.

He felt like he gained much respect from them, then.

"Come on, let's get you out of this mountain." Thorin chuckled, pulling Bilbo to his feet. The stone floor was cold under his bare soles, but wearing shoes like demons did was too exotic for him. 

The way out of the mountain hardly seemed to take as long as the way in. The entire company escorted him, though Kili was half asleep in the circle of Fili's arms and Bombur looked like he was still hungry.

Thorin lightly ran his hands along the tops of Bilbo's wings as they entered the clearing at the entrance to the mountain, stimulating the blood flow. Bilbo shivered as blood rushed back into the small veins running through his wings, and beat them a little. 

"Off you go." Thorin coaxes, pushing against Bilbo's lower back.

Bilbo offers him a sleepy smile, and lifts himself off the ground gently. The whoosh of air against his skin is refreshingly cold. He is at the height of the tops of the trees in the forest when Thorin calls out to him.

Bilbo turned back, and saw Thorin looking up at him.

Almost instinctively, he floated back towards the ground, beckoned by Thorin's call.

Thorin grinned, and reached up his hands to gently pull Bilbo into a kiss. "Now you can go." He whispers, pulling away. 

"I'll be back tomorrow." Bilbo answers, just as quiet.

Thorin gives him a soft smile and draws back his hands.

For a moment, Bilbo's wings seem to swell forwards, before his lighter bones make use of themselves and he is propelled upwards. Thorin watched on proudly, while the other demons watched in awe, as Bilbo flew up into the clouds, high enough that his clothes bled into white just before he disappeared. 

Thorin watched the sky where his One had disappeared to, content.

"Why do you not ask him to stay?" Dwalin asked from behind him.

Thorin held out a hand, catching the single white feather that fell from the sky, and smiled faintly. "For the same reason that he does not ask me to leave."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm growing to like this AU~ ❤


	20. Endeavours

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A quiet moment after a hard day of work, told from Bilbo's POV.

Bilbo was fast asleep when the sound of something heavy clanking to the floor startled him awake. He sleepily lifted his head from his pillow, frowning. "Thorin...?"

"Sorry, did I wake you, love?" Thorin quietly walked into their room, shucking out of the last of his uniform. The fire-proof suit stood out in the dark of the room (though that was intended its purpose, he supposed) and Bilbo knew it was extremely heavy to wear. 

Of course, carrying around and working with such a bulk gave Thorin rather impressive muscles that Bilbo frequently ogled. God knew Thorin showed them off enough, knowing how Bilbo admired his form and taking advantage of Bilbo's rather fickle nature when it came to Thorin and his physique. 

"Rough night?" Bilbo asks around a yawn, pushing himself up on his hands.

Thorin hummed, and kicked off his boots. He walked beside the bed and dipped to press a kiss against Bilbo's forehead, startling him further into wakefulness. He was careful not to let any soot smudge on the smaller man. "Go back to sleep, love, I'm going to go have a shower."

Bilbo watched, silent, through blurry eyes as Thorin disappeared into their en suite. He curled up his legs, dragging the sheets with him, and contented himself with waiting for Thorin to return.

Bilbo knew Thorin's job was very demanding. Being a firefighter meant that his work hours were all over the place and that he could be called away to work at any moment. He knew it was very strenuous on Thorin, and often left him stressed and grumpy. Bilbo did all he could do to support Thorin, because his husband loved his job and Bilbo hated the thought of Thorin losing that passion. 

Fifteen minutes later Thorin stumbled back into the bedroom. He let out a deep groan as he slid into the bed. "You didn't have to wait up." He said tiredly.

Bilbo offered him a smile. He reached up a hand and rubbed his fingers behind Thorin's ears. "You never wash here." He wiggled his fingers, where soot stained the tips, just faintly visible because of the light that streamed in through the window. 

Thorin let out a deep sigh, and went to get up again, but Bilbo placed a calming hand on his chest.

He leaned over and pulled out cleaning wipes from the drawer of the bedside table, and set about gently cleaning behind Thorin's ears. "Take the day off tomorrow." He suggests.

Thorin nods obediently, resting his forehead against Bilbo's (somewhat pudgy) chest, completely exhausted.

"I'll make you breakfast." Bilbo continues. "After a sleep in. You need a day of rest."

Thorin nodded again. He wordlessly lifted a hand to rub against Bilbo's waist. 

"We can watch your favourite movies tomorrow." Bilbo says, throwing the wipes onto the bedside table before coaxing Thorin to lay flat. "I have the day off."

Thorin nods, and pulls Bilbo to his chest. Bilbo could feel the tension coiled under his skin, and knew that rest would do Thorin the world of good.

"Can we have sausages for breakfast?" Thorin asks quietly.

Bilbo chuckles. "Yes, my dear."

Thorin smiles and nuzzles his tousled curls. "Thank you, Bilbo."

Bilbo rubbed his back gently. The muscles were starting to unwind, his muscles melting into the mattress. Bilbo rested comfortably when Thorin's arms turned heavy and limp around his waist. "Love you." He whispers.

Thorin was already asleep, comforted in the knowledge that Bilbo would take care of him when he himself could not. Bilbo smiled, pleased, and closed his eyes.

He loved Thorin dearly, and would do all he could to support him in whatever endeavours he chose to adventure after.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally, I thought this would be best told from Thorin's POV - but I find Bilbo's easier to write, so I went with that. Now, I kind of want to write Thorin's--
> 
> Would you mind that, for tomorrow? It's gonna be so busy for me tomorrow (we have a school fete and I'm working during it) so I think this would be something easy for me to get through ^^"


	21. Endeavours Pt.II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A quite moment after a hard day of work, told from Thorin's POV.

Thorin grouched and grumbled as he stumbled into his home. His heavy suit weighed down on his shoulders and threatened to turn his muscles into mush. All he wanted to do was go to sleep.

Tiredly, he pulled off his thick belt, relishing the moment when his equipment was removed from his shoulders. He went to set it down quietly, but the strap slipped from his grip and he cringed as it clanged to the floor, hoping it wouldn't wake his sleeping husband.

"Thorin...?"

_Ah, no such luck._

Thorin entered their bedroom quietly. "Sorry, did I wake you, love?" He asks as he pulls the last pieces of his dirty uniform from his body. 

Faintly, Thorin could see Bilbo pushing himself upright, wobbly. Guilt twisted at his heart, because he knew Bilbo would be tired in the morning if he stayed up too long. 

"Rough night?" Bilbo asks around a rather endearing yawn, lifting his head from the pile of pillows it was resting on. 

Thorin hummed, and kicked off his boots. They needed a clean, and Thorin was glad they had wooden floors, or else the dirt when never come out. He walked towards the bed and dipped to press a soft kiss to Bilbo's forehead. He startled, like a shocked kitten, and Thorin tried not to laugh at the sight his sleepy husband made. He was careful not to smudge any soot on Bilbo's creamy skin, unwilling to blemish it even in his tiredness.

"Go back to sleep, love." Thorin murmurs, pushing back a stray curl behind Bilbo's ear. "I'm going to go have a shower."

Bilbo watched him silently for a moment, before Thorin made his way into their bathroom. He made sure to turn the light on only after he had shut the door, because it was rather bright.

The warm water of the shower helped to ease Thorin's muscles. His shoulders ached, and his legs ached more - all he wanted to do was go to bed. He had to force his hands to move, to clean the soot and grime and sweat from his skin and hair. 

Sometimes he hated his job. It was so demanding - the hours, the days, the physicality of it. It put great strain and demand on his body, and half the time his mental strength didn't hold up. Sometimes he wished he hadn't chosen this path for himself, because being a firefighter didn't always mean he was able to put out fires.

But there was nothing else he wanted to do. He loved the rush of it, the excitement, how it got his adrenaline flowing. He loved his co-workers, they were some of the best friends he'd ever had, and he loved being able to educate the community and the children at the schools he visited about fire safety.

He loved knowing he was making a difference. 

After Thorin was sure he had washed all of his body, he turn off the taps and existed the shower. He felt lethargic with sleep as he dried off and got dressed, barely supressing a yawn that brought tears to the corners of his eyes.

He stumbled back into the bedroom a few minutes later, and let out a deep groan as he slid onto the bed. 

Bilbo was still awake. 

"You didn't have to wait up." He says tiredly. 

Bilbo offered him a faint smile. He reached up a hand, and rubbed his fingertips behind Thorin's ears. "You never wash here." He wiggled his fingers, where black soot stained the tips, just faintly visible due to the light from the moon coming in through the window.

Thorin let out a deep sigh, realising he'd have to shower again. He made to get up, but Bilbo placed a little, calming hand on his chest that halted him.

Thorin watched as Bilbo leaned towards his bedside table, pulling a bag of cleaning wipes from the top drawer. Thorin wanted to collapse in relief, but managed to retain himself as Bilbo set about gently cleaning behind his ears.

"Take the day off tomorrow." Bilbo says quietly.

Thorin nodded obediently, leaning forwards to rest his forehead against Bilbo's soft, bare chest. Bilbo always looked out for him - he always listened to what Bilbo had to say, these days, because he was right more so than he was wrong.

"I'll make you breakfast." Bilbo continues. "After a sleep in. You need a day of rest."

Thorin agreed, but hearing Bilbo say it made him feel less guilty about it. He wordlessly lifted a hand to rub Bilbo's waist, comforted by the softness of his skin and the warmth that always radiated from him. 

"We can watch your favourite movies tomorrow." Bilbo continues in that soothing voice of his, casually throwing the wipes onto the bedside table before he coaxed Thorin to lay flat on the mattress with him. "I have the day off."

Thorin nods again, and musters the strength to pull Bilbo to his chest. The man fit perfectly in the circle of his arms, just the right size, with soft padding in all the right places. Tension drained from his body readily, and he faintly wondered what he had done to deserve an angel like Bilbo beside him.

"Can we have sausages for breakfast?" He dared to ask. They were his favourite - Bilbo made them the best, but they took a little effort, so he hardly ever asked for them. He hated to think Bilbo spent any more time on him than necessary, when Bilbo could be spending time on himself (time that he rightfully deserved, Thorin was adamant).

"Yes, my dear." Bilbo chuckles.

Thorin smiled, and tiredly nuzzled his nose into Bilbo's curls. "Thank you, Bilbo."

Bilbo rubbed his back gently. The motion was so soothing that he felt as though he were melting into the mattress. 

He thought that he would have to tell Bilbo he loved him in the morning, because for now, he fell fast asleep, safe in the knowledge that Bilbo would be there to care for him if he could not himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I recently realised that I've spent 52 days writing these, now. So far, including the one-shot I wrote, I've written 68,670 words for leisure this year, and it's only been (nearly) two months.
> 
> I didn't even realise ^^"  
> I have a strange feeling that I'm going to run out of ideas around mid-March, haha ^____T


	22. Incredible Things

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thorin spends time with his little family.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just an irrelevant note - I changed the name of "Raise the Crown" to "Collateral Damage". I thought that suited it better~ ^w^

Bilbo sighed, stretching out on the couch. His skin stuck to the leather uncomfortably, damp with sweat, and for the seventh time that day he wished he'd turned up the air conditioner before he'd laid down.

He would've gotten up... if there weren't a sleeping baby on his chest.

He sighed again, running the tips of his fingers down little Frodo's spine, stopping at the top of his nappy before moving up towards his shoulder blades. The poor thing had been up all night after a particularly bad dream he wouldn't remember, and had only settled an hour earlier, at eight in the morning. He'd been up for far too long, and his sleeping schedule was completely ruined, but Bilbo was just glad he was getting rest.

Bilbo tilted his head back and closed his eyes. It was so hot, and he was so tired. He'd been up all night gently rocking Frodo, who grizzled and whimpered and screeched if Bilbo put him down, even when it was just to pass him over to Thorin. 

He thought that maybe Frodo was developing an attachment issue, much like how Fili did when he was a baby, before Kili came along. Bilbo hoped not, because he didn't want Frodo to be completely dependant on him when he was older.

_Maybe I'm overreacting. He had a nightmare._

Bilbo huffed to himself, and settled further into the couch, carefully cradling Frodo. 

 

Thorin carefully juggled Kili in his arms as he fished for the door key. Fili gripped his elbow tightly, making it difficult, but eventually he found it with a satisfied grunt. 

He'd taken the boys out to the local park for the day, a bag of sandwiches and water bottles filling the bag he had on his shoulders. His Bilbo was taking care of their little Frodo, and Thorin thought it best to take Kili and Fili out to keep the house quiet.

"Make sure to be quiet." Thorin advises, smiling with ease when two sets of wide eyes turn up to him. Kili wiggles from his grip, and Thorin carefully sets him down. 

The child was about to run straight into the house, no doubt to cause mischief, but Thorin held him steady. 

"Shoes and hats." He instructed. The two hurry to remove their shoes and hats, Fili with more balance than his younger brother, before they both rushed down the hallway.

Thorin sighed, toeing off his shoes and placing down the empty bag before following them. His boys were always up to something, and despite their age gap they were always on the same wavelength. He was glad that bringing Kili into the family had brought Fili out of his shell - the child had been so terrified to leave Bilbo's side that it pained Thorin.

Now, though, now it was hard to keep track of them.

Thorin padded into the lounge room, absently turning up the air conditioner. The sight that greeted him made his chest swell.

Bilbo was fast asleep on the couch, shirtless, wearing nothing but a pair of Thorin's old boxers and looking as though he had been asleep for quite a while. Little Frodo, in just his nappy, was curled up on his chest, his dark curls tousled. Tired, bleary eyes blinked at him as Thorin crouched down beside the sofa.

"Go back to sleep, Frodo." He cooed, reaching out to brush his knuckles against Frodo's chubby cheek. 

The baby gurgled at him, pushing a hand against Bilbo's chest. Bilbo started to stir, and sleepily blinked at him. 

"Do you want me to take him?" Thorin asks quietly, leaning forwards to kiss Bilbo's temple.

"If you could." Bilbo yawns.

Thorin smiles faintly, before gently lifting Frodo into his arms. "Hi, baby." He croons, grinning when Frodo's mouth opened in a sleepy smile. "And how are you, today?"

Frodo giggled.

"Where are the boys?" Bilbo asks, yawning, as he sits upright. "Did you remember the sunscreen?"

Thorin chuckles. "I did."

"And you took the sandwiches I left on the bench, not the ones in the fridge, right?"

"Yes dear."

Bilbo huffs at his teasing tone, and stands to stretch. "You are insufferable."

"And you are delectable." Thorin grins, making a point to move his eyes up and down Bilbo's body. The man was intolerably insecure sometimes, so Thorin made it a point to always remind just how much he admired Bilbo's physique.

Really, who wouldn't, if they had the chance? He was so soft and squishy and curvy and it was absolutely _heavenly._

"I think the boys are in their room." Thorin muses, smirking at Bilbo's flushed face and half-hearted attempt to cover himself up.

"Well, then. I'm going to go find them. After I find clothes." He mutters.

Thorin chuckles, and takes a seat on the couch. His sore legs thank him for it. Frodo rested comfortably in his arms, watching Thorin with big, baby blues and a curious expression.

"What? I'm allowed to ogle." Thorin says defensively. "He's my husband."

Frodo is silent for a moment, before he giggles.

Thorin rolls his eyes. "Yes, yes, I'm sure it's just hilarious to you." 

He wiggles his fingers at Frodo, who squirms in delight, as he listens to the sounds echoing through the house. Bilbo had clearly found a shirt, because he was leading the two boys out of Fili's room to play in the lounge room where they were unable to create mischief. 

Kili climbs onto the couch almost immediately, leaning over Thorin to stare at Frodo. 

"Hello!" He chirps, grinning broadly, showing off his darling little dimples. "It's me, Kili! Remember?"

Bilbo chuckles from across the room where he had his arms wrapped around Kili. "I think he remembers you, Kee."

"Really?" Kili's eyes widen.

Thorin smiles to himself, gently rocking Frodo even as Kili scrabbled to pat his curls and Fili demanded Bilbo to pick him up (to which Bilbo readily obliged). 

Ah, what a wonderful family he had.


	23. A Matter Of Opinion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bilbo is captured by poachers.
> 
> Gandalf enlists the help of a certain Dwarven King to rescue him.

Bilbo's eyes opened to an unfamiliar place. For a brief moment, he thought he had fallen asleep in his garden, but with a startle he realised that there was no way he'd keep such unkempt greenery near his home. The grass was growing unevenly, some parts tall enough to cover his body, while various flowering weeds poked through in high clusters.

Bilbo pushed himself upright. Faintly, he rubbed his long, rabbit ears, just knowing his fur was most likely very messy. Any other Hobbit would have berated him for keeping it so tangled, but he did not have the time to fix it right now.

_Where am I?_

He sat upright straighter, frowning, and pressed a hand forward. A dome of glass separated him from the view outside his garden-in-a-bubble, and with a soft cry he realised he was trapped.

Bilbo pressed both hands against the glass. Curved, white walls surrounded him, aside from the glass done that allowed him to see out (and others to see in). 

He's heard tales of poachers who captured Hobbits for various reasons - they'd been what haunted his nightmares as a child.

Bilbo bit his lip to keep from crying. How had he been careless enough to have a poacher snatch him? Granted, it was winter - Hobbits naturally turn to a hibernation-like state where their bodies slowed down most functions to preserve heat, but he hadn't succumbed to the cold just yet.

Hastily, Bilbo patted down his body. His ears did not seem scarred, and his little tail was alright, if a bit stiff. He didn't think he had any scratches or bruises...

For now.

Bilbo huddled himself deeper into the grass.

He wanted to go home.

 

It must have been less than a week before something happened.

Bilbo could see other cages through the glass, cages that might have once held other creatures of different shapes and sizes. No poachers had made a move yet, in fact he hadn't even seen one, but that didn't mean he didn't hear them.

He always heard footsteps, and the sound of clanking metal, with faint roars and loud screams that echoed down the building.

He didn't think he'd slept a wink. 

Bilbo had begun to think he'd never get out, when suddenly a rush of people came in. He'd startled at the noise they made, because they were clearly fighting the poachers. 

Bilbo jumped, pressing against the far wall when one was thrown across the floor in front of his cage. The poacher was hideous, like the faces in his nightmares. He couldn't stand to look at it for more than a moment.

A tall figure cloaked in grey moved in front of his cage.

"Gandalf!" Bilbo cries, darting forward to press against the glass. He turned his watery eyes up, and wanted to shout out in relief as the familiar face of the wizard stared down at him.

"Hold on for a little longer, Bilbo my friend, we'll have you out of there in a just a moment." Gandalf turned and beckoned over his shoulder.

A different figure moved into his sight of line. The man had a stern face, long dark hair and sharp blue eyes - a shade Bilbo had never seen before. Truly, he was stunning, even despite his intimidating presence. 

_He's a Dwarf!_

Bilbo's ears started to perk in interest, but they pressed back when the Dwarf's gaze turned to him sharply.

"Is this your friend?" He asks Gandalf, without looking away from Bilbo.

Gandalf nodded. "This is Bilbo. Bilbo, this is Thorin Oakenshield-"

"King of the Dwarves?" Bilbo's eyes widened as he pulled his hands to his chest. He'd only heard tales of the Dwarves and their leaders, and news of Thorin's recent coronation had only briefly touched the Shire. 

Thorin looked somewhat impressed, and Bilbo tried not to flush. 

"Are you hurt?" Thorin asks.

Bilbo quickly shakes his head. 

"Move back." Thorin says. Bilbo hardly has time to comply before Thorin is raising his sword and swinging it down onto the side of the glass dome. The lock keeping it closed shatters and falls to the floor with a loud clatter, and it pops off - the fresh air instantly fills Bilbo's lungs, making his eyes water.

Bilbo unravels his legs and all but tumbles from the cage. His knees shook, and for a moment he thinks he's going to collapse- 

_I can't walk!_

But then Thorin's arms wind around his shoulders, hauling him upright, keeping him steady. 

Bilbo winces in pain. His muscles felt tense and achy from being unable to stretch for several days. 

"Bilbo, this is milkweed." Gandalf says, looking at the weeds in his cage.

Bilbo nods, frowning.

"What of it?" Thorin asks, moving an arm around Bilbo's waist to keep him upright. 

"It's not good for Hobbits." Gandalf answers. "Breathing it in has probably weakened his muscles and damaged his fur."

Bilbo wanted to cry. A Hobbit's fur was almost sacred - well kept for signified a good Hobbit. Many people married for the colour of their spouses fur, to produce beautiful children.

"It'll grow back better." Bilbo offers weakly, his ears drooping. They did look atrocious - no shine or lustre to speak of. He must have made such a bad impression on Thorin.

Gandalf places a reassuring hand on his head. "I'll be alright, my friend."

 

It took Bilbo four weeks to recover his muscle strength. The fresh air did wonders - he spent hours sitting in a meadow near the home of the Dwarves, Erebor, allowing the sun to warm his skin. 

Of course, it was rather embarrassing to have Thorin carry him out there every morning, and back in when the sun reached its highest point. Even worse, Thorin often spent an hour or two with him - Bilbo was constantly flustered! Did Thorin realise just how attractive he was?

"Will you return to the Shire?" Thorin asks one night as Bilbo does his stretches, helping to strengthen his muscles. 

"I'm unsure." Bilbo says. "Hobbits aren't a settled people - we move around quite often, then settle when we have a family."

"Do you have a wife?" Thorin asks.

Bilbo shook his head, smiling faintly. "No, I do not wish to take a spouse - but even if I did, I was probably have to move around to find one."

"How so?"

"Well, my mother was a Took - very adventurous, you know. Loved to create mischief. Many thought she would never attract a mate, but my father simply adored her, adventure and all. Oh, but I should mention that adventuring is not a thing good Hobbits do." Bilbo says.

"But you move around."

"Yes." Bilbo agrees. "To designated Hobbits towns and back. But to go on an adventure - well, it is mostly unheard of. Most Hobbit adventurers, not that there are many, less than a handful really, have come from the Took family."

Thorin hums in reply. He lifts a hand; his fingers hover over one of Bilbo's rabbit ears. "May I?"

Bilbo thought that is was a very forward act - to touch another's ears was very intimate! But Thorin likely didn't know that, and despite his rather atrocious blush, he nodded.

Thorin's fingers stroked down the ear. "It's soft." He says, looking somewhat surprised. 

Bilbo shivers at the feeling, and smiles faintly. "They're not very presentable at the moment. Milkweed is not good for our fur. A couple more weeks and they'll be right as rain!"

Thorin carefully winds his fingers around the ear, stroking it. 

Bilbo lets out an involuntary, pleased gasp, leaning into Thorin's touch. He flushes and startles away at the sound, nervously wringing his hands. "U-um, about our ears-"

"Gandalf told me of your Hobbit customs." Thorin cuts him off, his eyes hooded and bright with something akin to desire or cheekiness (or both). He lifts his hand again. "May I?"

Bilbo flushes, gaping. Thorin knew, and he still asked to touch his ears! "You wish to... even though my ears are - they're hideous." He mumbles.

"I like them." Thorin counters.

Bilbo squirmed. Thorin sounded so sure of himself, so determined - how could he resist? He found himself nodding, leaning forwards once again. "If you're sure..."

Thorin strokes his fingers down Bilbo's ear again, his lips quirking into a smirk when Bilbo quivers at the sensation that shoots down to his twitching tail. "Oh, I'm quite sure."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Since I've been asked, [this is my Tumblr](http://milkteamiku.tumblr.com/)
> 
> I felt kind of weird giving my normal tumblr out, considering all I do is reblog a multitude of fandoms and text posts, so this one is just for my writing. If you even want to drop me a message, feel free ^^
> 
> (Also, I only made it today so the theme is a complete mess, I apologize in advance until I have time to fix it up ^^")


	24. A Matter Of Opinion Pt.II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bilbo enters his hibernation-like period. 
> 
> It's rather difficult to explain it to Thorin when all he can do is yawn.

Bilbo sighed, stretching out in his bed languidly. Absently, he scratched one of his ears - his fur had come along quite nicely, now, _five weeks later-_

It was worth it, he supposed. He absolutely loved grooming them and took pride in their lovely appearance. It was a Hobbit thing. 

Besides, Thorin seemed to enjoy playing with them too. Bilbo found it odd, how the Dwarf was so ready and willing to touch them. Hobbits would never do such a thing, especially not in public! At least, not until marriage - but Thorin didn't seem to mind displaying such an open, intimate type of affection towards Bilbo.

If Bilbo was being completely honest, he rather enjoyed the adventurous feeling it gave him.

Bilbo yawned quietly. Winter had truly taken hold, now. He could no longer lay out in the sun until midday, because it was so chilly outside. He'd taken to wearing extra layers and spending a lot of time in front of the roaring fireplaces during the evenings, too. 

Still, winter was winter, and without an imminent threat of danger he could feel his body slipping into its hibernation-like state. He wouldn't actually fall asleep for the rest of winter, but it was rather similar - he would sleep for almost sixteen hours straight, and only wake up during the warmest part of the day to do basic bodily functions, such as eating and bathing.

He thought that maybe he should have warned the Dwarves he had gotten the closest to - a company of twelve, who had all travelled with Thorin on his adventure to recolonise Erebor. He was particularly fond of little Ori, the youngest, who acted as a scribe and soaked up all the information Bilbo told him with an excitement that reminded Bilbo of fauntlings back in the Shire. 

Bilbo yawned, burying his face into his pillow. It smelt a lot like himself, and lulled him back into a sleepy state. The warmth of his blankets was wearing away at the cold in the room, but it wasn't enough.

A knock on his door made him frown a little.

"Bilbo?" Thorin's voice, muffled by the door, reached his ears. "Are you in there? You missed breakfast. And second breakfast." He adds as an afterthought.

Bilbo smiles into his pillow lazily. Hobbit eating patterns had shocked Thorin, but now he was getting rather used to them. Bilbo thought it was only a matter of time before the Dwarves joined him for every meal.

"I'm here." He calls around a yawn that bubbles in his throat.

Thorin enters quietly, and comes to sit beside Bilbo's den of pillows. "Are you cold, my dear?"

Bilbo hums, burying further into the blankets. "'M sleepy." He mumbles.

Thorin chuckles, running his knuckles down Bilbo's temple. "You've been sleeping since yesterday morning." He reminds lightly. "Are you feeling unwell?"

"'S normal." Bilbo yawns. "For Hobbits. Too cold... hibernation... that sort of thing...."

"Hobbits experience hibernation?" Thorin asks, eyebrows raising. 

"Not really... kind of? We just sleep a... a lot." Bilbo yawns again. Tears build up in the corners of his eyes. "Just got to stay warm, sleep for a while."

Thorin runs his fingers down Bilbo's ear, marvelling at its softness. "If you're alright, then I'll leave you be." He says. "Would you like to be moved to my quarters? There is a large fireplace there."

Bilbo's ears half-heartedly perk up in interest. "Yeah." He says, slowly pushing himself upright. 

Thorin chuckles. "I admit I was afraid to ask you earlier." He confesses.

Bilbo smiles sleepily. "Should've just asked." He says softly. 

Thorin smiles faintly, rubbing Bilbo's cheek with the tips of his fingers. "Just like a rabbit, sometimes." He says to himself, before standing. "Alright, stay still for a moment. I'll carry you."

Bilbo tenses as Thorin gently lifts him, blankets and all. But the tension in his muscles ebbs away as Thorin's scent, so overwhelmingly comforting and sensual, floods his senses. Thorin was _warm -_ irresistibly so, and it was all Bilbo could do not to just fall asleep then and there. 

"How long does this hibernation last?" Thorin asks, exiting Bilbo's room. 

"Till it gets warm again." Bilbo answers, nuzzling Thorin's chest. He didn't realise that Dwarves ran so warm. 

"Why does it happen?"

"To preserve body heat." Bilbo says with another yawn. "Hobbits... not good at resisting cold. 'S why we live in Hobbit holes under hills, any sunlight heats up the house, cold of snow stays out... That kind of thing. "

Thorin nods, but Bilbo doesn't see, only feels the ends of Thorin's hair tickling the top of his head. "So it's truly nothing to worry about?"

Bilbo shakes his head.

"Is there any way to prevent it?" Thorin asks.

"Just staying warm." Bilbo answers tiredly, rubbing his feet together. "Harder to do than it sounds, you know."

Thorin chuckles, a deep, reverberating sound that Bilbo can feel even through all the layers separating their skin. "I suppose I'll have to try and keep you warm, hmm?"

Bilbo flushes, despite himself. It was possible to shorten a hibernation period without the help of spring, but it was a bit of an effort. "You're terrible." He chides lightly, embarrassed.

Thorin grins. "I cannot help myself, you are much too delightful."

Bilbo laughs quietly, burrowing further into Thorin's embrace. They were nearly at his room now. "You flatter me."

"I speak nothing but the truth." Thorin replies. "I often think that Gandalf had ulterior motives when he summoned me and my company to come to his, and your, aid."

Bilbo smiles, feeling rather happy with his current situation. "I'm inclined to agree." He answers quietly.

Thorin chuckles again, and enters his bedroom. Wordlessly, he eases Bilbo into his bed, and piles the quilts on top of him.

Thorin's scent was stronger here. Bilbo thought it was something very pleasant, and turned his face into the pillow to hide his little smile.

"I'll go fetch more blankets then start the fire for you." Thorin says, leaning down to press a gently kiss to Bilbo's cheek, and then his ear, making Bilbo flush brightly. "Try and get some rest."

"Thank you, Thorin." Bilbo says quietly, his eyes slipping closed.

Thorin smiled. "It's my pleasure, Bilbo."


	25. Knight In Shining Armour

Bilbo winces as a cold rush of air belted him in the face. He anxiously nuzzled into his scarf, breathing hard on his hands. His fingers had started to turn as red as his nose and cheeks. Any moment now he would start sneezing, and when _that_ happened there would be no stopping it.

He grumbled to himself as he continued carefully walking down the icy pavement. One misstep and he would be tumbling straight down, as he'd seen many people already do. 

Overall, his luck was rather atrocious. Today appeared to be no different - but for entirely different reasons than the one's he was dreading. 

Well, at least he didn't fall.

No, the person walking in front of him did.

Bilbo squeaked, flinging his arms out to catch the tall man before he hit the cold ground. "Are you alright?" He cries, trying not to slip as he heaves the man upright.

The man grunts, looking oddly disgruntled as he straightens himself. "Thank you." He mutters, turning his eyes to look down at Bilbo, and as they see him, they gain this interested _glint_ that makes Bilbo flush.

"It's alright." Bilbo answers, flustered. "What anybody would do, really, I think-"

"I'm Thorin." He interrupts, holding out a large hand. "Thorin Oakenshield."

"Oh, I'm Bilbo Baggins." Bilbo answers, tentatively placing his hand in Thorin's. The man's fingers wrap around his completely, and are so warm it almost burns. 

Thorin's lips quirk up in a little smile. "Nice to meet you, Bilbo."

 

Of course, sometimes Bilbo's bad luck led to good things. 

He had coffee with Thorin that day. Coffee with donuts. The _good_ kind - with cinnamon, and they were heavenly on such a cold day. 

He learned rather quickly that Thorin's stern exterior did not extend all the way down. He may look grumpy and grouchy and generally unpleasant half the time, but his personality was greater than gold. He could be quirky, and very thoughtful, and was great at observing somewhat hidden cues. 

Thorin was also very attractive. In fact, Bilbo was sure he'd never seen anyone with such a unique expression as Thorin - somehow, he managed to pull off the _"I'll gouge out your eyes if you look at me too long"_ look. His dark hair and stunningly bright blue eyes were a very appealing combination, which somehow complimented that strong nose and stern expression of his.

Really, Bilbo was unsure as to what exactly he first felt for Thorin. A mixture of arousal and shocked fear, surely.

Still, Bilbo was willing to pursue a relationship, whatever kind it may be, with Thorin. It helped that Thorin seemed rather interested in him, too - a fact that shocked Bilbo, considering he was all chubby thighs and unmanageable curls. 

So they went for a second coffee date, more confident in the fact that there was clearly a mutual attraction between them. 

And then another.

And then, another.

Really, Bilbo was quite pleased Thorin had fallen straight into his arms that day.

"My knight in shining armour." Thorin would tease with a rather cute little quirk in his lips. 

Honestly, it was rather embarrassing. "Then you are a damsel in distress." Bilbo would reply.

He was glad the pavement was so slippery that day.

"I can't wait for winter to be over." Bilbo mutters, despondent, as they walk down the footpath towards their usual coffee shop. "Oh, are you serious? It's snowing."

Thorin glances up at the sky. "So it is." He chuckles. He pulls a hand out of his jacket pocket and presses it against the small of Bilbo's back. "We'd best hurry along then."

Bilbo complies, hurrying to keep up with Thorin's longer strides as he guides Bilbo towards the shop. The bell above the door chimes as they enter; the smell of coffee, warm and familiar, envelops Bilbo like a blanket. Bilbo breathes it in, and lets out a contented sigh.

Thorin pushes him towards a booth in the far corner, and absently reaches up to run his fingers through Bilbo's hair. "You're snowy." He chuckles. "I'll go order. The usual?"

Bilbo nods, flushed, untucking his scarf loosely. "Yes, please."

Thorin drops a kiss to his forehead before making his way to the register. 

Bilbo sighs, resting his chin in his hand. This felt good. It felt good to meet someone new and not have them spurn him because of his appearance or his nervous behaviour. Having a new face in his life that brought on new feelings he hadn't felt before was refreshing. 

_Really, I think I'm in love. Is that what this is?_

Thorin returned and slid his drink and his donut in front of him, before taking a seat. "What are you thinking about?"

"Pardon?" Bilbo startles, flushing.

Thorin peers at him curiously. "You looked like you were deep in thought just then."

Bilbo hides a smile by taking a sip of his drink. "Just thinking."

"About?" Thorin prompts.

"You're oddly curious." Bilbo teases.

"I want to know what put such a happy look on your face."

Bilbo grins, cheeks red, and rests his head in his palm again. "I think you have an idea."

"And am I right?" Thorin matches his grin. 

Bilbo smothered his smile in his drink again. _You know you are._


	26. A New Family

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As a child, Bilbo's town is raided.
> 
> A friendly, female Dwarf offers to share her family with him when he loses his own.

Bilbo whimpered, pressing his hands over his pointed ears. There was too much _noise,_ too much _metal,_ too much _death._

He didn't know what to do anymore. His Mama had said to stay hidden, to never come out, and she told him she loved him, but what now? Bilbo tried to stifle his sobs as he pressed harder against the tree behind him.

Footsteps approached him; heavy, but even, unlike the ones of the monsters that trampled through his town.

A figure crouched down in front of him, brushing aside the foliage that kept him partially hidden. "Are you alright, little one?"

The voice was soft, and feminine. It coaxed Bilbo to open his eyes, though it was difficult to see through his tears. It was a women crouched before him - her eyes were very blue, and her hair was dark. She had a beard, which Bilbo thought was odd.

The woman offered her hand. "My name is Dis. What's yours?" 

He sniffles, wiping at his eyes. "B-Bilbo." He offers quietly.

Dis reaches out to gently take your hands. "Where are your parents, Bilbo? Your Ma?"

Bilbo's lip wobbles. He reaches into the pocket of his dirty waistcoat and pulls out the watch his Papa had give him. It takes a bit of frustrated fiddling, but eventually he pops it open. A picture of his Mama and Papa is beside the watch component.

Dis gently takes it from his hand. She looks at the photo, and a brief flicker of pain fills her eyes before she smiles down at him. "Your Ma is very pretty." She says, handing the watch back.

Bilbo tries to smile at the compliment. 

"Want to come with me?" Dis asks. "I have a nice home, and two sons of my own."

"Like an adventure?"

Dis smiles mournfully. "Just like an adventure."

Somewhere deep inside, Bilbo realised that there wasn't really another option for him. So, he nods, and wraps his fingers around Dis's outstretched hand.

"Do you have a family?" Bilbo asks, looking up at her as she carefully leads him back onto the main road.

Dis nods. "Yes, I do. I have two brothers and two sons."

"Are you married?"

She chuckles. "Yes."

"What about your Papa and Mama?"

"My Mother died a few years ago, but my father still lives." She answers.

Bilbo's eyes widen. "Sorry..."

"That's alright, my dear." Dis smiles again. 

"Aren't you sad...?" Bilbo asks quietly.

"Of course I am. It is always a sad occasion to lose a loved one." She says, picking him up gently when he starts to sniffle again. "But I am glad for the time I had with her. Now, I am a mother, too, so I can understand what she felt for me. I have my family, and they have me, and when help each other, so I'm not always sad anymore."

Bilbo nods, resting his cheek on her shoulder. "Will I always be sad?"

Dis pats his back. "Of course not. I will share my family with you."

Bilbo nods again. He clutches fistfuls of her hair, and blindly allows her to take him away from the destruction of his home.

 

Dis's family was strange. They all had beards - even her children! They looked like adults to Bilbo, and were very tall, but Dis said they were still young. He didn't really understand, but Fili carried him around a lot so he learned to enjoy their company.

Frerin, Dis's brother, was a lot like Dis herself. _Just more childish,_ Bilbo thought, _and not very much like a respectable adult at all._ He loved to play pranks on his older brother, and was sometimes very silly at the dinner table, but he told Bilbo the best adventure stories. 

Thorin was the eldest sibling.

Bilbo secretly liked him the best.

He was kind of scary looking. He had a sharp nose and strict eyes, and at first Bilbo was so afraid he hid behind Dis's legs and cried when Thorin looked at him. His nephews and brother thought it was hilarious, but Thorin was just disgruntled, and maybe a little offended. Dis gently told Thorin he hadn't done anything wrong, and that Bilbo was just a little shaky - which was true, but Thorin did look rather frightening.

Bilbo grew to like him really quickly, though. Thorin made an effort to look less like a wolf, and it was obvious to Bilbo right away that Thorin wanted him to like him. 

It was a moment they spent outside that changed Bilbo's opinion of the Dwarf. He'd been sitting quietly in the long grass, minding his business as he weaved a crown of flowers. It was a common thing for Hobbits to do, you see.

But Kili and Fili thought it was silly. They laughed and joked at his "pansies" when he offered the crown for them to wear, and Bilbo's eyes had filled with tears so fast Kili had squeaked.

"I will wear it."

Bilbo's head had whipped around, and there Thorin had been, somewhat nervously watching him. Bilbo's eyes had widened, and he had grinned so wide his chubby cheeks had hurt.

"There." He says, finally fitting the crown onto Thorin's head. The Dwarf had to be seated for Bilbo to even reach his shoulders, but somehow he'd placed it on Thorin's head - and he was rather proud of his work.

Thorin said nothing as he wandered off in search of more flowers, and continued to sit, silent and relaxed, as Bilbo wove them through his hair to make the crown thicker.

After that, Bilbo had hardly wanted to leave Thorin's side. He pouted atrociously when Thorin was busy, leaving him in Frerin's care, and refused to go to bed if Thorin wasn't going to tuck him in.

"Really, I don't know how you did it." Dis sighs, watching as Bilbo lay tired and content in Thorin's arms.

The Dwarf shrugged, careful not to bump Bilbo's head, and ran a large, comforting hand down his back when he whined at the movement. "It was just some flowers." He says.

Dis laughed to herself. _"Just some flowers?"_ She repeats, shaking her head. "No, I think it was much more than that."

Thorin hides a smile in Bilbo's curls. "Maybe..."


	27. Such As Freedom Is Privilege

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They live in a world were everything is controlled and everything is peaceful, and all they want is to leave.

"Good afternoon, Mr Oakenshield."

Thorin was scowling, lips pulled down into a look that spoke of his frustration. "It's just Thorin."

"Now you know that is improper." Bilbo answers, straightening the already straight papers on his small, neat desk. "What can I help you with, today?"

Thorin stuck out his arm, displaying a cut that was raw and red. 

"And how did this happen?" Bilbo asks, as was protocol, as he slipped on white gloves and gently gripped Thorin's arm. "Did you hurt yourself, Mr Oakenshield?"

"No." Thorin answers. "Field injury."

"Maybe you should inquire to change jobs." Bilbo says, reaching for a cloth to douse it in disinfectant. "If you are always being injured."

"Is that what you suggest?" Thorin asks sourly.

"I advise you to do as you please, and have pleasure in what you do." Bilbo answers. "This may sting a little. I apologize."

"Your apology is accepted." Thorin's tone is bland, but Bilbo expected nothing less.

Bilbo let out a slow breath, and only after his apology was accepted did he begin to clean the wound. Thorin's arm jumped under his fingers, but he had applied enough pressure to keep it still. "You should be more careful, Mr Oakenshield."

"But then when would I see you?"

"I do not appreciate your sarcasm."

"I know."

Bilbo let out another breath. "Your injury will not need stitches." He says. "This time."

"I am thankful for your service."

"You are welcome." Bilbo replies. 

He glances up briefly, watching the barely hidden cameras that spun around methodically in the hallway adjacent to the door of his work room. He hesitates for a moment, before reaching for his desk and switching off the power point. All electronics whir to a stop.

"You must be more careful." He says thickly, turning worried eyes to Thorin. "If they notice your placement record, they'll - _do something."_

Thorin turns his arm to grip Bilbo's gently, forearm pressed to forearm. The heat of his palm was striking against Bilbo's skin, chilled by the artifical air systematically pumped into the room. "Don't you wonder what's out there?" Thorin demands.

"You know I do." Bilbo murmurs. "But you know we cannot leave."

"Why not?"

"No one ever has."

"Doesn't mean no one ever will."

Bilbo hesitates. Living here wasn't bad - until you realised that you did not have control. _"Freedom"_ was a word Bilbo had recently learned. _Adventure, home, desire, love... they are words I never knew existed, and yet I crave what they mean..._

"I don't know how much longer I can keep covering for you." He says quietly, moving his arm from Thorin's grip to finish bandaging the wound. "But you must stop getting hurt. I cannot bear to see you injured." _It hurts, and being hurt is something I do not like experiencing..._

"How else will I see you?" Thorin asks quietly. "We are not scheduled to cross paths in work, we have no leisure time slotted at the same hour... and Curfew prevents us from leaving at night."

Bilbo smiles painfully. "Please, Thorin... Do not make this any more difficult than it already is."

"I will find a way for us to get out of here." Thorin murmurs, reaching to pull Bilbo from his chair into an embrace - a hug. It was a warm thing, with much physical contact, chest pressed to chest. It was nothing Bilbo had ever felt before this man had entered his life like a summer storm, hard and brutal at first before softening into something comforting and strong.

"And your family?" Bilbo asks.

Thorin had a thing known as a _family_ \- knew his _biological_ family, not the one he was assigned to as a baby. He knew he had a person called a _sister_ and a person called a _brother._ And two children called _nephews,_ who his sister had birthed. 

Bilbo did not know his biological family. He only knew of a baby called Frodo, of whom must of been his own nephew. He did not know what word went with the emotion he felt when thinking of that.

"Them too." Thorin says, twining his fingers through _honey-coloured_ curls on Bilbo's head. "You, and me, and them, and Frodo - we will all be free, to do as we please, to see as we please, to hear and taste and smell as we please..."

Bilbo nods, and returns Thorin's embrace. "Be careful, still."

Thorin nods too, and Bilbo was _relieved._ "We will be able to live freely, Bilbo. I promise you."

"I believe you."

"That is all I can ask of you."

"You could ask for more." Bilbo answers quietly. "You could ask for anything, and I will give it if I can."

Thorin presses his lips to Bilbo's forehead - it was a _kiss,_ and intimate action taken between people who harbour positive feelings for one another. Bilbo quite liked the feel of it. "We will be free."

Bilbo smiles faintly. "We will be free..."


	28. Sunlit Halo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Summer storms, however purposeful, don't help flowers to grow.

Thorin measured his steps carefully, holding his bag over his shoulder with one hand as the other swung loosely by his side. He could hear the rain falling against the rooftop of the school, echoing down the quiet hallways like ricocheting shards of metal against metal.

He knew Bilbo's day had not gone well. For a moment, he just wanted to go home - he wanted this all to be someone else's worry, someone else's burden to carry. He wished there wasn't a part of him that felt so much for Bilbo.

_"I'm at the library."_

Thorin glanced at his phone, still unlocked, the messages still open. It seemed so simple; such little, insignificant words spoken between a friend looking for a friend, a classmate assigning a tutoring location, a girlfriend telling a boyfriend where she had lost herself during the day because he was worried that she hadn't come home when she said she would.

_"I'm sorry, Thorin."_

Bilbo was asking for a reprieve, without saying the words. His words, _"I'm at the library. I'm sorry, Thorin"_ were all he could say, because he thought he had disappointed Thorin, thought he was _weak_ because he felt pain at things Thorin had told him should not hurt. 

Thorin lowered his eyes at the text. Bilbo apologized for things that weren't even his fault, and Thorin hated that. It set his nerves on fire, that need for compensation that some people, like Bilbo, had programmed into their very nature. 

_"I'm so sorry."_

_It's not your fault._

It never was.

Because people could be so _cruel -_ mature, thinking people with feelings and insecurities of their own, were so cruel to him. They flaunted his faults; his weight, his curls, his clothes, the freckles on his shoulders from overexposure to the sun, his love for gardening, his aptitude at English, his lack of sporting ability, his soft, comforting voice that couldn't be heard over the pounding of his heart between his ears...

Everybody had faults. It was a part of the human condition, to have them - because not everybody would think they were faults, and Thorin didn't. He _didn't._ He adored Bilbo's soft curves and honey-coloured curls. He traced the constellations in Bilbo's freckles, and treasured every hand-grown flower Bilbo gifted him as if it were made from pure gold. He loved that Bilbo was so good at English, because it made Thorin proud, and he didn't care that Bilbo was bad at sports, because not everybody could pitch a ball or toss a volley or jump so far over a sandpit that people cheered.

Bilbo wasn't made like that.

And Thorin had first met Bilbo after hearing that _voice. _Bilbo had soothed his crying nephews, partly because it was his job at the day care but mostly because he adored children so _much_ that Thorin had thought flowers would sprout from his curls just out of pure happiness.__

Thorin stared at the plaque that read "Library" printed in neat, strict letters. He breathed slowly, filling his lungs with oxygen that felt stagnant, before pocketing his phone and pushing the doors open. 

No matter how long it took, Thorin would convince Bilbo to love himself. He would convince Bilbo to see his sunlit halo and his crown of flowers, and to taste the honey in his voice and to feel the softness of his soul. It would take years, because Bilbo still needed to finish his schooling to get out of this toxic environment and to a place where it never stormed. But Thorin would convince him. 

No matter how long it took.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> End of month two (◍ ´꒳` ◍)b
> 
> Next up is March - now that I have a taste for Canon and AU scenarios, I'll be writing both. But for March, I want to try writing some obscure pairings; so, if you have any suggestions not already mentioned, drop them below!  
> You can also leave something in my inbox on [Tumblr](http://milkteamiku.tumblr.com/) if that's more to your liking ^^
> 
> Also, I'd like to mention - I usually replay one song over and over when I write, and if anyone's interested, [this](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=S98Q11zhS-g) is what I was listening to this time around (❁´▽`❁)*✲ﾟ*
> 
> Thanks for staying for me all this time! See you next month “ヽ(´▽｀)ノ”


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